


RE: Programmed

by Besin



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Computers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:31:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Besin/pseuds/Besin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One name was all it took to put Sora's life on pause; his name. With it CLU's faction managed to find, capture, and imprison him in a program with the expectation that he would live to death. Now he lives a different life, trapped, and the only things that can free him are his natural curiosity, an AI, and the shadows hiding in his memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	RE: Programmed

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the KH Big Bang which means WeasleysAngel on LJ made a very, very beautiful FST to go along with this story, as well as a very awesome bit of art.
> 
> FST: http://www.4shared.com/rar/ZuuVBr6B/REReprogramed_Final_Mix__1_.html  
> Cover Art: http://s5.photobucket.com/user/weasleysangel/media/rereprogramedfront2.jpg.html  
> Back Cover Art: http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y179/weasleysangel/REReprogramedback.jpg
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Kingdom Hearts or its characters. No money is being made from the production or distribution of this work.

Bleary eyes opened to glaring sunlight and cursed it.

The owner rolled over.

“Sora, it's eight o'clock!” a woman yelled some distance away.

There was a man in a bed refusing to get up. He'd only been awake for thirty seconds and already he wanted to scream. The days leading up to that fateful morning had been long and tiring, and he had hoped that the sun would never rise. But rise it did, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was going to be the longest day of his life. It was then that Sora – savior of worlds, chosen of the Keyblade, vanquisher of darkness – took hold of his pillow and flattened it forcefully over his face.

“Kill me,” he muttered to the pillow; an odd request. It didn't occur to him that his mother might have a heart attack at the sight of his smothered body, and if it did he wouldn't really care. Anything to stop the day from starting.

After a few minutes, the man realized that even with the pillow over his face he could still breathe quite easily. He tossed it aside with a frown, and the moment it hit the floor with a dull _thump_ he groaned and jumped out of bed. He'd faced harder things.

Though, admittedly, those things hadn't been quite as personal.

The floor was cold that morning, and he jumped and hissed and generally hopped his way over to his closet. On the doorknob hung a suit wrapped in plastic. He stared at it, closed his eyes, willed it to disappear, and opened them to find it very much there. Taunting him.

He wanted to scream.

Resigning himself to his fate, he slid a finger under the plastic wrapping and tore it away before taking the instructions out of the breast pocket. It was all very confusing, but the fabric was nice against his skin.

Then came the “tie.”

He honestly had no idea what to do with the strip of fabric looped around the neck of the shirt, so he just left it there and headed downstairs.

“You're looking...” His mother paused as she glanced over the outfit. “What are you wearing?”

“Apparently it's called a 'soot,'” Sora informed her blandly, tugging idly at the tie laying limp around his neck. “And yes, I think it's weird.”

“Huh,” the woman breathed, craning her head to take a closer look before turning back to the stove. “I called the matchmaker this morning.”At the word “matchmaker” Sora began striding to the door, earning the woman's ire. “Where do you think you're going?” she snapped, turning to glare him down.

He pause. “A wedding, remember? I'm going to be late.”

His mother fixed him with an odd look. “Who's getting married?”

“The Princess of Radiant Garden.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Who's getting married?”

“I just told you – the princess-”

“Yes, yes, but _who_?”

Sora was quiet for a long while, eyes glued to the floor, before he finally admitted, “Kairi.” He stooped down and took hold of a bag by the door.

“Kairi?” his mother muttered in disbelief. Then, in a louder voice, she began, “But I thought you and Kairi were-”

“Yeah,” the man interrupted, slinging the bag over his shoulder and shrugging it into place. “So did I.” He waved goodbye to his mother and pushed the front door wide open. He left with his shoulders low, his back slouched, and a sunken head.

**-RE-**

Sora's Gummi ship was hidden well, as far as secret space ships go. Or, at least, that's what he thought. There were no Gummi hangars in Destiny Islands, so there wasn't anywhere really 'safe' he could put it. So after a long time deliberating he'd decided to hide it on the Kid's Island. It had been there for five years, untouched.

After tying his boat up to the dock, Sora raced to the other side of the island. The heat was nearly unbearable in his suit. He hoped it wouldn't be nearly as hot on Radiant Garden. Before long he was jumping between the tops of trees until he got to one he had marked with an X – a throwback to so many of the things in his life. Seeing it, he had to pause for a moment and smile before turning to open air.

Glancing around to be sure that no one was watching – not that anyone else would be on the island that early – he turned to face the expanse of nothing before him. He dropped into a crouch. The suit hindered this, and the man groaned. He hoped it wouldn't interfere too much; otherwise he might not make it. After counting to three, he whispered a prayer and jumped. For a few jarring moments he was simply sailing, sun beating down on his back and a sudden gust of wind biting his eyes and ears. After dropping a good foot, and nearly having a heart attack, he landed on something solid and very much not air. He grinned.

It hadn't moved an inch.

He felt around the top of the cloaked ship for a bit before his fingers brushed against a hatch. Before long he had dropped in and was sitting in his old seat, looking over controls that, despite the years, had yet to accumulate a single layer of dust.

“Computer,” he called. “Status report.”

Suddenly the ship came to life. The hatch closed, lights lit, and a few of the knobs and buttons along the control panel began to flash. “ _All systems normal_ ,” the ship replied in a feminine voice.

Sora grinned. “Good. Plot a course for Radiant Garden.”

There was a short stall, then the computer asked, “ _Error. Did you mean Traverse Town?_ ”

The man frowned. “No. Radiant Garden.”

“ _Error. Did you mean the Underwater City of Atlantica?_ ”

“No,” the man shot back sharply. “Radiant Garden.”

A few of the buttons along the dash flashed before the computer replied. “ _Error. Did you mean The Republic of Garden?_ ”

“Sure. Whatever. I'm not in a rush anyway.”

“ _Error. Multiple locations selected. Did you mean Balamb Garden, Trabia Garden, or Radiant Garden? Please confirm._ ”

“Radiant Garden,” Sora repeated for the fourth time. Since when was there more than one Garden?

A few more buttons flashed before a noise similar to a squeaky hammer sounded through the small cockpit. “ _Thank you for your cooperation. Course to Radiant Garden plotted. Estimated time of arrival is ten hours. Please fasten all restraints and confirm route to begin_.”

Sighing, the man slipped his bag off and placed it in a compartment below the dash before settling into his seat. He made quick work of his buckles and leaned back. “Confirm.”

There was a slight sputtering noise, and the ship began to crawl along jerkily.

“Come on old girl,” Sora encouraged. “You can make it.”

**-RE-**

The ship apparently had a tutorial as to how to tie a tie.

It also made no sense.

Sora had used the time it took to arrive at Radiant Garden to attempt to figure out the strip of fabric around his neck. But he was at a loss. Before he knew it the ship jerked and announced he had arrived at the Radiant Garden Gummi Hangar. He glanced down at the tie. Somehow in his attempts to make it fancy it had turned into a noose.

He didn't want to consider just how appropriate that was.

Climbing out of the ship, Sora glanced around in confusion. There was so much going on! At least three other ships were docking, flowers were being carted every which way, and people were running everywhere. Orders were being shouted, a cake was being carried, and through it all Yuffie – who was sporting a headset and a knee-length dress with sections that looked as if lace had been mercilessly ripped off – was shouting that they didn't have much time so they had to “move it, people.” She then turned her eyes on Sora and broke into a grin.

“Sora!” she practically screamed, racing over to him. Taking hold of a button on the side of her headset, she stated clearly, “Condor has Nested. I repeat, Condor has Nested.” There was a short pause before she groaned and added, “That means the best man is here.” Another pause. “Cid, you have the list right in front of – _yes_ we have to use code names!” Giving Sora a sideways glance, the woman openly groaned and muttered into her headset, “Just a moment.” Without further ado, she took hold of Sora's shirt, dragged him to the hangar's exist, tossed him roughly out the door and shouted, “Tie emergency!”

Suddenly, fairies.

Sora didn't have a chance. Before he knew what was going on the three little fairies he'd met nearly ten years before – very briefly – were invading his line of sight. One flew behind him, grabbed his hair, and yanked it until he was forced to put his neck on display. And despite how he felt a few strands coming loose at the action, he had to admit he was impressed with the little creature.

The first of the three fairies – a blonde near his chin – proclaimed, “YRP to the rescue!”

The one pulling his hair scoffed. “Again.”

“Hey,” the third, a brunette, scolded. “It's a wedding. It's going to happen.”

They were everywhere: invading his line of sight, yanking clumps of hair from the back of his head, shouting orders to untangle parts of the tie, and tugging the noose at his neck tight enough to cut off his air supply.

One of them hummed, although he was a little too preoccupied trying to breathe to notice which one it was. “I'm pretty sure ties aren't supposed to go like this.”

“Let me take over,” the one slowly but steadily ripping out all of his hair offered.

 _Yes, please_ , Sora wanted to mumble. _Get her away from my scalp_.

There was a bit of shuffling, and Sora took this chance to loosen the tie around his neck and take a deep, very needed breath. “Air,” he squeaked. “Sweet, sweet air.”

The fairy covered in his hair flew around him, taking in the tie from all angles. Suddenly the man had a very bad feeling about this. While the other fairies had been in bright, poppy ensembles, this one was dressed in straight black with more studs than a Chippendales concert. He half expected her to hold out a hand and ask for a scalpel.

Despite his worries, the gothic fairy made quick work of his tie. Within five minutes or so she proclaimed him wedding-worthy and pointed him in the direction of the castle. “Aerith is in the foyer. She will tell you where to go.”

“Uh...” Sora began, utterly confused. “Okay.”

He then set off toward the castle, unaware of the fairies behind him whispering, “I like your hair. I don't think I've seen you in this shade before.”

“Shut up.”

**-RE-**

The foyer had been lavishly decorated, and as Sora stepped in he found himself feeling very similar to an ant. There were easily hundreds of people swarming the fountain, preparing floating candles and setting a layer of lace over the edge.

“Sora!”

“Hey.” The man was glad Aerith had seen him first and almost literally dove out of the crowd. It would have been a nightmare to find her. “I was told to find you. Something about my place.”

Aerith stepped forward, smoothing her long pink dress where it had bunched at her sides. But while Sora expected her to take a place somewhere a foot from him, she continued forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Then, without any more warning than a curious shine in her eye, her hands latched onto his tie like a magnet and she yanked it back and forth. “Yes, but first we need to talk about your speech.”

The man balked. “I have to give a speech?” He tried not to openly choke as she pulled one end of the tie until it was flush against his neck – and then some.

“Oh course – it's tradition.” She stepped back, admiring her handiwork for a short second. Then, turning her eyes to the taller man before her, she frowned. “Did no one tell you?”

The man scoffed, motioning toward his suit. “I barely even know what this getup is called.”

Grinning big, the woman brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “Figures. This place has been such a mess, lately. You should go see Kairi – she wrote one just in case.”

Swallowing heavily, Sora asked, “Where is she?”

Aerith pointed off to his left. “Library, upper floor,” she announced over the noise, then walked away.

He stared at the door for a long while before he actually approached it, nudging it open quietly.

“Who's there?” he heard her call the moment it shut behind him. He refrained from speaking, suddenly wary. He didn't want to surprise her, but at the same time he didn't want her to know just who he was.

Tiptoeing through the library, he weaved between the high shelves, slowly but surely making his way to the stairs. It was all just as he remembered; the details, the books, the maze of shelves that blocked the high windows on the far side. Eventually he made it to the stairs, and the moment his foot came down on them Kairi's head appeared over the side of the barrier.

“Riku, for the love of God, I _told_ you that you aren't allowed in-” She stopped abruptly, taking in the sight of the man at the bottom of the stairs. “ _Sora_?” The princess breathed in disbelief.

Racing up the stairs, not daring to speak, the savior of worlds tried not to faint at the sight of the woman before him. She was the most beautiful he'd ever seen her, with her hair twisted up into a bun high on her head and curls falling to frame her face. Long curled strands trailed to her mid-back, longer than he'd ever seen it. She was a vision in white. It was all he could think about until he got to the top of the stairs. Pulling her into a hug, he asked her earnestly, “If you don't want to see him why are you getting married?”

She laughed, obviously thinking it was a joke. The sound hurt. “Sora, you silly goose,” she giggled, throwing her arms around him and holding him tight. “It's been too long.” The woman puled back with a smile, paused to adjust his tie, then took a step back and turned in place, modeling for him. “How do I look?”

Unable to stop himself, Sora grinned big. The words that came out of him next were breathy, almost inaudible, but in the silence of the library the woman heard him loud and clear. “You're beautiful.”

Smiling wide – the way she did before leaving the islands for the first time, eyes closed and cheeks dimpling – she turned to the mirror and turned her attention back to her hair.

Watching on, the man tried to keep the burning sensation in his stomach from consuming him.

It wasn't working.

“Why are you marrying him?” Sora repeated, stronger this time.

Kairi, obviously surprised, turned to look at him with a puzzled expression. It almost hurt him to see it; she was just so beautiful. “What?”

“I don't hear from you two for years,” he began sharply, tone solemn. “I wait for you both on the islands, and one day some guy shows up holding this getup and an invitation to your wedding.” He motioned to the suit with an angry hand. “I need to know. Why are you marrying him?”

The younger woman stared at him, perplexed, for a long moment before admitting, “Because I love him.”

Smiling weakly, and ignoring the sudden avalanche of rocks in his stomach, Sora placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just checking. Now, Aerith said something about a speech.”

**-RE-**

It was a mess in more ways than one.

Sora had been moved and redirected at least ten times in the first five minutes after he left Kairi to her own devices. He'd never known weddings could be so high-maintenance. Back home they were small affairs with the family. Everyone would be dressed in Kimonos and everything was quiet. At least, that's how it was for the few weddings Sora had attended. It was almost a shock to be in a crowd and actually be part of it.

It wasn't until Tifa approached him that he found any semblance of order. “Sora!” she shouted, much in the way everyone else had that day. “I've been looking all over for you,” the buxom woman informed him with a frown, stepping forward to straighten his tie. The man had no idea why. He figured it would be straight after the fairies, Aerith, _and_ Kairi had gotten to it. He idly wondered if it was a culture thing. “I don't suppose anyone's told you what the traditions for a Radiant Garden wedding are, am I right?”

“Yeah,” the man admitted quietly.

“I figured. You have a look about you,” she mumbled, then stepped back to admire her handy work. Deciding it was sub-par, she shrugged and directed Sora further into the castle. “I'm pretty sure you've already worked this out, but you're going to be part of the ceremony – the 'best man.' Basically all you do is stand there,” she pointed to the far end of the room they had just entered, “and look pretty. Later you give a speech, which I see you've prepared.” She made a motion that seemed close to “may I?”

Sora handed her the paper Kairi had handed him, suddenly self-conscious. But Tifa didn't bat a lash as she read through the page and handed it back with a smile. She said it was a great speech, then led him to his place on the stage. People were already beginning to file into the pews, and suddenly Sora knew, without a doubt, that his feeling that morning was correct.

It was the worst day ever.

A sharp elbow to his side brought him out of his misery as an enthusiastic, very familiar voice announced, “Hey, you made it!”

Sora glanced up and, oddly enough, was surprised to see Riku grinning down at him. He grinned despite himself. His day may have been terrible, but he hadn't seen his best friend in years. “There's no way I could miss your wedding,” he informed the man cheerfully, convincing even himself.

They chatted for a bit about the Island – how Selphie and Tidus missed them, and so did he. But before Sora could ask Riku about how he and Kairi had gotten together a round of music began to play. Suddenly his best friend straightened and turned to look at the door. Kairi was there, walking down the aisle and staring at Riku like they were the only people on the planet and he was made just for her.

And the savior of worlds knew he'd lost.

**-RE-**

The world was crashing to pieces.

After the wedding the guests had been moved to another building for a party. There, Sora didn't know what to think any more. He'd just spent fifteen minutes reading off a page of words – a speech – to celebrate his best friend marrying the woman he loved. And he'd smiled and laughed through all of it like he usually did. He didn't feel too terrible about it all, which made him feel even worse. The man honestly felt _happy_ for his friends. Even wished them the best.

At some point someone put music on, and Sora slipped out from the table to get some air when it became evident that no one was going to ask him to dance. Stepping through the glass doors off on the far side of the room, Sora followed the path with his eyes and was surprised to find they led to a large garden that was sparsely populated with couples.

“Where do you think you're going?”

The keyblade master jumped, then turned and sighed. “Don't scare me like that!”

“Sorry,” Leon mumbled, unrepentant.

Turning back to look at the garden, Sora shrugged. “Just stepping out for some air. Can't really think in there.”

“Trying not to let on how you feel about Kairi, huh?”

Sora sputtered, spinning to face the man once more. “W- what?!”

“I know that look,” Leon informed him quietly.

“What look?”

“The look you get when the person you love has their eye on someone else. Or, in this case, gets married to someone else. It's a special sort of pain. You're half happy for them, half angry at yourself.”

The keyblade master laughed. “Wow, that's pretty spot on, actually.”

“If you need time,” the older man began, leaning close to whisper in Sora's ear after checking to make sure no one was around, “the lab is closed down. No one's been allowed in for a week.”

Sora frowned. “How come?”

He leaned back to a reasonable distance once more before replying. “Beats me. Just don't touch anything, okay?” Then, dropping back to a whisper, he added, “And don't tell anyone I gave you a key.”

A grin found its way at the younger man's lips. “Consider it done,” he promised, taking the keys that were suddenly being shoved into his hands. Stuffing them in a pocket, he moved to leave, only to be brought to a halt by a hand on his shoulder.

“It gets easier,” the swordsman promised him quietly. “Not immediately, but eventually it stops hurting.”

Turning to face the man, Sora – unbeknownst even to himself – fixed him with a tortured expression. “Thanks.” Giving into a sudden urge, Sora asked, “Hey, how old are you now?”

“Me?” Leon scoffed. “Thirty-one.”

“Huh...” Then Sora left, leaving the man on the path to the gardens.

After being left behind, Leon collapsed against the railing and ran a hand through his hair, letting loose a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. “Goddammit.”

**-RE-**

Ansem's lab was just as he remembered it. Empty, strewn with papers, and thrashed by the Heartless. It seems the new inhabitants of the castle had left the study untouched. Sora had to admit that made sense. After the final confrontation with Xehanort, the Heartless had all but disappeared, leaving a very happy universe. The research no longer had a use, it seemed.

Upon arriving in the room, Sora had immediately gravitated toward the lab. He'd long since forgotten his promise to Leon not to touch anything. He just needed to talk to someone who didn't have anything to do with his mess. Within seconds he was at the computer, typing slowly in an attempt to contact his long-time friend.

 _Tron_? He typed. _Tron, are you there?_

No response. He tried again.

 _Tron, it's me – Sora_.

As soon as he hit the period it felt as if he were being clubbed over the head and pried into pieces. It was a familiar sensation – one he hadn't felt in a long while. One that was both comforting and alarming. He closed his eyes for a second, and the next thing he knew he was in the old Cell Block, looking out at an empty hallway.

But this time it wasn't empty.

“You must be Sora.” It was a woman. “I must say, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

Taking in the orange stripes along her uniform, Sora panicked. “Who are you?”

She smiled. “My name is Paige, and I'm here to welcome you to the Grid. Clu sends his best.”

“Clu?!” The man began to panic. “What's going on? Where's Tron?”

“Oh, don't worry. Your little friend is alive and well. He's in the games, in fact, fighting for you users. You see, he didn't like the idea of a cleansing.”

Summoning his keyblade to him, Sora rushed Paige. But the moment the tip of the blade made to pass through the doorway he was thrown back against the opposite wall. “What-”

“It's a force field. You'll only hurt yourself trying to get through it.”

“What do you think you're doing?”

“You users – you have a word for this, right? Gloating is it?” She laughed.

“That's not what I-”

“Our great and noble Clu found that you were the only user capable of defeating us, and thus decided to take certain... precautions.” Reaching into a bag at her side, she removed a ball the size of her fist. “You see this? It's going to change your world. Now, I've been ordered to give you this, and to tell you that we're going to invade your plane of existence.”

“Why?”

“So you know you were powerless to stop it.” Turning the ball, she grinned as a button revealed itself. “Now, I know our meeting has been brief, but I feel the need to tell you... Goodbye, Sora.”

**-RE-**

“For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good-”

“Knock it off.”

“-fellow. For he's a jolly good fel-”

“I said knock it off!”

“-low!” The crowd drew out the note, much to the recipient's misfortune. “Which nobody can deny!”

“I swear I will hurt all of you.”

“Come on,” a woman insisted, holding out a cake with two candles that read “24.”

The man in the chair glared out at the crowd, then blew out the candles. Despite himself, he smiled.

“Happy birthday, Squall!” the woman shouted, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. The other adults cheered, awed, and teased the couple relentlessly until a bell rang.

“Okay, everyone,” a man shouted above the noise. “You've got classes.”

Squall snorted. “I don't,” he drawled, taking the cake his girlfriend handed off to him. He pressed a swift kiss to her nose. “Have a great one, Rinoa.”

She giggled. “I will. Put that in the freezer, okay? There's ice cream in it.”

The man wrinkled his nose at the knowledge, but after everyone left he cut himself a slice. Placing the rest in the freezer, he stepped over to the windows lining the far wall and looked over the campus. As he ate he entertained the idea of leaving town for his twenty-sixth birthday.

**-RE-**

Stepping out into the hall, Squall made to shut the door to the faculty room, only to pause.

“- incomplete back door. To... anything... need... influence of the AI... himself.”

The man spun on his heel, closing the door behind him and following the sound. It was a young voice; feminine. Sweet. Most definitely _not in class_. He turned the corner in a huff. And there she was.

“- I can't tell Sora. He's the center of all this, and he can stop everything. But if I make contact the program will just delete me like it did Roxas.”

“Hey,” the teacher called.

The girl down the hall was small, with long blonde hair and a white dress. Turning away from the janitor she was talking to, she smiled. “Hello, Mr. Leonhart,” the girl greeted, mildly surprised.

Squall frowned. “I hope you don't make it a habit to skip class and talk to janitors, Ms...” He trailed off, waiting for her to fill the space.

“Stoner,” she informed him. “Naminé Stoner. And I don't, sir.”

The man scoffed, throwing the janitor she had been talking to a dirty look. However, the man mopping the halls didn't even bother looking up. “Get to class,” he told the girl curtly.

“Okay,” Naminé chirped, carefully rising to her feet. She brushed off her skirt, then nodded politely before walking around him and making her way down the hall.

“Detention, young lady,” he called after her. “After school; my office.”

“Understood, sir,” she called behind her, waving at him with the back of her hand.

Heaving a sigh, Squall turned his eyes to the janitor, who hadn't so much as moved from the spot he was mopping during his and Naminé's conversation. Turning away, he continued down the hall, mumbling under his breath.

**-RE-**

It was shortly after his fourth class that Squall made his second trip to the faculty room for coffee. As soon as he arrived he saw Rinoa. She noticed him right off, walking up to him and slipping her hand into his. “Good afternoon, Squall,” she greeted warmly.

He grinned big, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “How has your day been?”

“Wonderful; thanks for asking. How's yours?”

“Okay, I guess.”

Rinoa leaned up to nudge her nose against his. “We still on for tonight?”

The man nodded. “Yeah, but I'll be a little late. Had to give a kid detention for skipping class.”

They tore apart when a nearby teacher cleared their throat, mouthing “Code of Conduct” once the couple was paying attention.

Rinoa winced. “Sorry about that.”

“It's fine,” the woman said, turning to look away while nursing her own cup of coffee.

Turning back to her boyfriend, the woman pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Call me when you get out, okay?”

“I will,” Squall agreed, stopping her when she went to leave and pressing his lips to hers. “Have a fantastic day, beautiful.”

“Watch it – you've got a Code of Conduct to follow, Mr. Leonhart,” she teased, stepping past him into the door frame. Making a motion with two fingers like she was watching him, she turned away and left.

Grinning big, Squall went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

**-RE-**

Several hours later, Squall arrived outside his office, arms full of papers. Naminé wasn't there yet, but he didn't let it bother him. He'd be bothered if she was there early. It was detention after all. And it wasn't like she had any of his classes. The girl would probably have to ask around a bit before she finally found the right room. With no further thought on the matter, the man fumbled for his keys and let himself in the room.

“You are a very slow walker.”

Squall froze at the voice, eyes shooting to the form sitting in the chair opposite his desk. Lithe, blonde, blue eyes; it was Naminé. “How did you get in here?”

She pointed behind him. Then, in a manner that was too blunt to be sarcastic, she declared a single word that made as much sense as it didn't. “Door.”

Squall fought the urge to groan. “Yes,” he hissed. “But it was locked.”

“The password wasn't terribly difficult.” The girl shrugged as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“Password? There's no password. You need a _key_.”

Naminé smiled innocently.

He stared at her incredulously. “Did you pick the lock?”

“I think we can safely assume the door was unlocked, Mr. Leonhart.”

Silence followed the statement, and Squall felt no urge to continue the conversation. His head was beginning to hurt. “Do you have any homework to do right now?”

“None,” she informed him confidently.

“Good. You'll be helping me grade papers.” Dropping the stack of paper on the desk, he held out one of two pages for her to take. “This is the master sheet. Grade to the answers on the page. Don't leave any notes or cute drawings, please.” Settling into his seat behind the desk, he tossed the girl a red pen and got to work.

After twenty minutes of this, the girl looked up. “Isn't it annoying?”

Squall glanced up, slightly irritated. They were nearly done with the stack. “Is what annoying?”

“Being a program of limited intelligence,” she 'clarified,' fixing him with an earnest expression.

The man rolled his eyes and sighed. “Do you mean, is it annoying being human?”

“Of course. Don't you find it infuriating?”

“It's not.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why doesn't it annoy you?”

Squall fought the urge to groan. “Because it _doesn't_ ,” he insisted, hoping it would be the end of the conversation. He turned back to his papers.

“Yes, but why?”

“Not everything has a reason.”

Naminé went quiet at this, and after a few seconds returned to grading. But before five minutes could pass she glanced up at the man and frowned. “Are you the AI?”

Capping his pen, Squall fixed the girl with a glare. “Excuse me, but I thought this was detention.”

“You're a teacher, but you're mad so you can exist within parameters the others can't. Can you break the rules, too?”

He refused to dignify this with an answer. Grabbing the pen once more, he jerkily removed the cap and returned to grading.

She sighed. “Of course you can't.”

“I don't want to,” Squall informed her stiffly. “I am a teacher, remember?”

Naminé sighed again, then turned back to the paper she had been grading. Before the two knew it, an hour had passed and they had burned through most of the stack.

“You can leave, now.”

“Yes, sir,” the girl replied, setting the pen on the desk and standing. But as she made her way to the door she paused. Spinning on her heel, she eagerly grinned down at him. “If you're ever in the mood to break some rules,” she began, “go to the side of the gym closest to the wall at six in the morning and look up.” Then, before the teacher could reply, she fled the room with a giggle.

Squall watched her leave, confused, before turning back to the papers. Finishing off the last of them, he pulled out his cell phone and called speed dial one. There were a few buzzes before the line clicked and a woman answered.

“ _Hey, Squall_ ,” Rinoa greeted warmly. “ _Ready to go_?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, shrugging off the foreboding feeling Naminé had given him. “I'll be at the front gates in a few minutes. Meet you there.” A date was just what he needed.

**-RE-**

Squall didn't know what possessed him to go to the gym the following morning. But despite himself he found his curiosity piqued. Not out of any desire to break the rules, but to discover just what convinced Naminé that he would want to. And when he finally arrived he received no answer.

At first he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. The alley between the back of the gym and the wall keeping monsters out of the compound was deserted. There were a few discarded bottles that needed to be recycled, but beyond that the are was empty. Recalling the girl's words, he glanced at his watch. It was six in the morning on the dot. What was he supposed to see?

 _Look up_.

Her voice echoed in his head, and he glanced up at the sky. Again, nothing. Not a single thing, aside from a strange rustling noise. It sounded like paper, and for a moment he was confused. Where was that coming from?

Silently and majestically, a paper airplane floated from the roof and sailed over the wall.

Squall's eyebrows nearly met as he observed the construction. Stepping closer to the wall, he attempted to see who was on top of the gym. “Hey,” he shouted. “You – get down from there.”

A spiky head of hair popped over the side of the roof, followed by the face of a young boy. “Wow – a guest.”

“I'm serious,” the teacher continued sharply. “Get down right now!”

The boy sighed, then mumbled a withdrawn, “There goes my fun,” before grabbing the stack of paper at his side and edging his way over to the edge of he building. One-handed, he grips the side of the roof and drops to the ground completely unscathed, much to the teacher's surprise. After this he turned to grin at the authority figure and asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”

Squall frowned. “Yes; you can pick up your trash.”

This seemed to surprise the boy. “Really?”

“Yes, really. This way. Now.” Squall then turned on his heel and led the way to the school gate.

The boy sighed. “They're not going to be there.”

“Whatever you say,” the teacher snapped, opening the gate wide enough for them both to step through, only to find the other side vacant of any paper airplanes. He gaped.

“Told ya,” the boy announced, obviously bored.

Scanning the barren landscape, Squall furrowed his eyebrows. “I guess the wind must have blown them away.”

“Sound deduction,” the boy reasoned, drawing the older man's attention. “One problem though,” he continued. Sticking his finger in his mouth, he then held it up into the air. “No wind. It's just a glitch.”

If possible, Squall's frown grew deeper. The student was beginning to remind him of Naminé. “What?”

“It's a glitch. The moment anything goes over that section of the wall,” he waved at the wall with his entire left arm at this, “gets relocated.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Yeah – it's what makes it a glitch.”

Reaching a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, Leon sighed and turned back toward the gates. As he moved toward the entrance he asked, “What's your name?”

“Sora.”

“Congratulations, Sora. You just earned yourself detention for littering. My office, after school.”

The boy laughed. “Sure thing, teach. Whatever you say.”

Squall bit back a sigh. He'd been doing far too much of that lately, in his opinion. Instead he silently made his way toward the gates with Sora in tow. It wasn't until they were inside the compound once more that either of them spoke.

“So, can I go now?”

Mr. Leonhart nodded an affirmative, watching the boy suspiciously as he walked away. Sora had seemed somehow familiar. He brushed it off, though. He'd probably had the boy in one of his previous classes. And either way, they lived in the same area. Attended the same school. He'd have to have met him at some point.

**-RE-**

It was by sheer luck that Squall stopped by his office to get some papers after school. He'd forgotten about the detention entirely – about his morning altogether. But when he found Sora outside his office door, sitting dejectedly against the wall beside the door frame, he cursed his memory. “Sorry I'm late,” he lied. “Something came up.” At least the boy wasn't already inside his office.

“No problem, Leon.”

Silence.

“What?”

Sora blinked. “That's your name, isn't it?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“Squall Leonhart.”

The boy stared up at him, confused. “Isn't that the same thing?”

Squall's eyes narrowed at the impudent student before him. “Who told you my name was Leon?”

“No one. I've known you for...” The teen trailed off curiously, eyes narrowing as he thought back. Then, much to the man's surprised, he looked confused. “I... don't know you? No, I don't...”

Striding forward, Squall unlocked his office and waved Sora inside. The boy complied gratefully. They both took their seats; Squall at his desk and Sora in the seat opposite. And once there the man stared at his unfortunate charge.

Sora blanched. “What is it?”

“I've been asking around,” the man began evenly. “Apparently the janitors find upwards of a hundred paper airplanes under the bleachers in the gym every week.”

“Huh – so that's where they go.”

Squall did not look amused.

Sora laughed nervously. “Did you turn me in?”

“Why? You already have detention.”

“Good point.”

A drawn silence passed between them.

Squall's eyes narrowed suddenly. “You called it a glitch.”

“Yup.”

“Know of any more?”

Suddenly Sora shot up, grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “You betcha! Meet me on the Gym's roof in six hours, okay?”

“Why should I?”

“Because you're interested enough to ask.” Stepping around the chair, he made his way to the door. “Don't be late!”

Glancing over at the clock, Squall scoffed when he saw it read 4PM. “Curfew starts at nine,” he reminded the boy loudly.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Sora called back.

“What takes _six hours_ to prepare?”

“Nothing! It's just that my favorite glitch draws attention!” And with that Sora was gone.

Squall stared after the boy, not quite confused and not quite angry. He was furious that the boy thought he could just walk out of a detention, but at the same time he was curious about these “glitches.” Paper airplanes don't just teleport.

After retrieving the papers he needed, Squall left his office and locked up. He then began the long, annoying trek to the copy room on the far side of the campus. After a good five minutes of walking he found himself nearly dragged into the copy room by a very enthusiastic pair of hands. “Rinoa,” he chuckled. “Long day?”

“Wonderful, thanks for asking. How's yours?” she mumbled into his neck, nuzzling his jaw. Reaching around him, she pulled the door shut.

“Pretty good,” Squall mumbled back, leaning down to catch her lips with his. They shared a few needy kisses before he reversed the situation, pushing her against the wall and pinning her hands above her head.

She immediately started struggling. Pulling away from the kiss, she nudged him away from her. “Hey, no pinning,” the woman scolded. “It's weird.”

“Okay, sorry,” the man apologized, leaning in for another kiss. Her chap stick tasted like cherries and he couldn't quite get enough of it.

“Come home with me tonight,” she urged, taking hold of his collar and pulling him in close. “It's the weekend. Stay with me.”

“Definitely,” Squall agreed, then groaned. “Shit – I have something to do.”

Rinoa pushed him away, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Some student wants me to help him with something or another. It requires darkness for some reason.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Darkness?”

“Yeah; something about glitches.”

“Glitches? Is that supposed to make sense?”

Leon sighed. “I have no idea.”

“Who's the kid?”

“Sora.”

“Sora? I have him in third period. Good kid. What's the project for?”

“Curiosity, mostly,” Squall admitted, though he didn't bother telling her whose curiosity it was for.

Rinoa frowned. “You know what this sounds like?”

The man groaned. “I am _not_ cheating on you.”

She grinned. “As long as you know how it sounds.”

“You can ask him and everything. Heck, I'm half tempted to ask you to come along.”

The woman shook her head. “Nah – you boys have fun,” she encouraged. Then she leaned in to whisper directly into his ear. “Besides, this'll give me more time to get... _ready_.”

Squall swallowed. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Ready,” she insisted, then left.

Taking deep breaths, Squall fought the urge to reschedule with Sora. _No_ , he thought to himself. _Then Rinoa won't have ample time to get..._ _ **ready**_ _._

**-RE-**

After stopping by his apartment to drop off some papers, and channel surfing to pass the time, Squall returned to the school around 8:30PM. Stepping in to the compound, he fixed his eyes on the distant figure of the gym. Making his way along the edge of the wall, he kept his eye on the steadily darkening sky, somehow dreading the meeting. He mostly just wanted to figure out who Sora was in cahoots with. Someone had to clean up those airplanes, and someone had to have put them in the gym. But why would the boy play a joke like that? It made no sense.

“Hey! I didn't expect you to be early!” Sora called from the gym roof not fifty feet away. “In fact, I didn't think you'd come.

Squall fought the urge to groan. He didn't want to admit that he had literally nothing to do until he was finished there. And that he couldn't _wait_ to finish so that he could go on to more... _pleasurable_ pursuits. So instead of admitting that there was one place he would most literally rather be, he raised a single hand in greeting and replied, “Hey.” It wasn't long before he was up on the roof with the boy and he was handed a camera. “What's this for?”

“You'll see,” Sora replied. Then, lifting up a stack of papers at his side, he grinned. “First, paper airplanes.” He handed a sheet to Squall. “Go on – try it.”

The teacher eyed the sheet warily, but took it. He then stored the camera on his lap. Taking the paper in hand, he folded it length-wise, then worked at the tip. By the time he was done he had a perfect paper airplane and, feeling rather proud of himself, looked up to brag, only to find Sora was holding at equally pristine piece.

“You may notice that they're exactly the same,” Sora pointed out, gesturing to their tips and the lack of folds anywhere but where is necessary. “All paper the airplanes here are perfect.”

Frowning, Squall took another sheet from the pile and purposely crinkled the edges. Then, folding it sloppily, he held up the dilapidated work for his student to see. Except it wasn't dilapidated. It was perfect in every detail without a wrinkle on it. “What-?”

Sora smiled. “Now throw it over the wall.” Holding his airplane just so, the teen launched it away from the roof and watched it sail majestically over the gap between the wall and the building.

Squall watched it carefully, and was shocked to find the airplane disappear altogether once it cleared the other side. “How did-”

“You try it,” the boy suggested eagerly, pushing Squall's discarded paper airplane into his hand.

The man frowned, staring down at the folded sheet in his hands. He didn't want to. He just wanted to go over to Rinoa's place. He didn't want paper airplanes to be perfect, or to disappear – only to reappear in the gym. None of it made any sense! Nevertheless, the man carefully poised the projectile over his right shoulder and gently threw it forward. And while he'd deliberately put only enough pressure behind it for the thing to nosedive over the side of the roof, it flew in a perfect line toward the wall and passed over it, disappearing just as Sora's had.

“They all fly at the same rate here, too,” the boy told him belatedly, taking in his shocked expression. “They don't go anywhere but there. Fun, huh?”

“I guess,” Squall mumbled to himself, eyes glued to the space where the sheet of paper had magically disappeared.

Taking in the man's expression, Sora let loose a deafening laugh. “What's that for?”

“What?”

“The whole 'this is ridiculous' look?”

The teacher frowned. “But this _is_ ridiculous.”

Turning a wide grin on the man, the boy motioned toward the camera with one hand. “Whatever. Just get that ready to shoot,” he told him, rising slowly to his feet. He watched carefully as Squall fiddled with the camera, and just as the man found the power button he added, “And try not to freak out, okay?”

Squall's eyebrows drew together, and he fixed Sora with a look. “Why would I freak out?”

The boy graced him with a smug grin. “Just don't freak out.” And with that he jumped off the roof.

One of many proper reactions to this would have been to jump up and try to catch him. Another would have been to scream, or cry, or even twitch. But Squall did none of these things, and instead sat as stiffly as he would if he were planted in the very roof, because in truth he was just a very oddly shaped vegetable. He would have been fine with that reality. It sure beat the glitching mess that was fast replacing his life. But Squall wasn't a vegetable, and Sora had just jumped off the roof.

And stood there.

On empty space.

“I think they were planning a second floor here,” the boy told him not-so-helpfully, scuffing his shoe against the solid air. “In fact, I'm pretty sure this wasn't supposed to be a gym at all. They must have been using the blueprint for something else and decided they needed one.”

Squall idly considered that he was dreaming. And so, feeling a lot like Alice, he turned on the video camera and started recording like Sora had told him to. “What makes you say that?”

The boy laughed. “Well, I'm standing here, for one. Second, look at the screen.”

With not much else to do, the teacher did, in fact, look at the screen. And there they were – little green lines in the shape of a grid that happened to be exactly where Sora was standing. It did for another floor; one that went out further than the gym roof. “What are those – infrared?”

“Glitching blueprints,” Sora informed him confidently.

A corner of the man's lips twitched upwards. “You talk like we're inside a computer.”

Stepping off the invisible floor, the boy settled back into his old seat and reclined against the roof. He turned his eyes on the sky, which had finally gone dark. But due to light pollution only a few stars could be seen. Completely serious, he muttered, “Who says we're not?”

The boy's words were followed by a silence that seemed dark to the older man. It was ominous, but funny, yet strange all at once. Possibilities presented themselves in his head one after the other. Being in a computer would explain the glitches. However, the idea was so far-fetched he didn't want to consider it. And it wasn't until Squall turned to get a look at the boy's face that it finally occurred to him what was going on. “You're serious,” he whispered, almost not quite believing the situation.

Sora's cheek twisted into a momentary smile. “Humor me – what if we were in a computer?”

“What?” Now the man wanted to run. If he'd known the conversation would gravitate in this direction he wouldn't have come to the meet-up at all. He could be with Rinoa in her apartment, enjoying the night in her _pleasant_ company, opposed to his current predicament.

Suddenly he realized what was happening and was very alarmed. He had a _current predicament_. And while strange, it was a problem in the fact that it was happening. Because, like it or not, he was sitting on the roof of a gymnasium, after curfew, with an eighteen year old boy formulating conspiracy theories from paper airplanes.

What's worse, he was buying in to them.

Sora turned on his side, angling his shoulders so he was facing the older man with a wide grin. “What would you do if we were in a computer?” he asked innocently.

Squall stared back for a moment before turning back to look out over the wall. “I don't know,” he admitted quietly. “I guess it would depend on the circumstances.”

Shuffling onto his back, Sora brought himself back into a sitting position and leaned forward to look the man in the eye. “What kind of circumstances?”

“Like...” Squall shrugged. “Like if I was born in the real world.”

“What would you do?”

The man took a moment to think about it, completely unaware of the consequences that would follow. He considered his life: his job, his apartment, even his relationship with Rinoa. _What if it was all fake?_ he wondered. _What if my coworkers were programmed to be annoying and my apartment was a jumble of ones and zeros? What if Rinoa was programmed to love me?_ Squall weighed his possible responses seriously before announcing the only one he could agree with. “That's pretty simple,” he told the boy honestly. “I'd escape.”

“And what if I told you that you were a person?”

Turning to face the boy on the roof, Squall frowned. “Excuse me?”

Sora shrugged. “You remembered to come.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“People here only keep dates or events in mind if the one scheduling them is older.”

The teacher scoffed, rolling his eyes as he did it, and fixed his eyes once more on the horizon visible over the wall. “Now you're just making things up.”

“No, I'm serious,” Sora replied nonchalantly. “Look – you were slated for chaperone duty, right? For the dance?”

“How did you – that's entirely voluntary!” Squall lied. “No one's 'slated' for anything. And I'm _certainly_ not chaperoning the next dance.”

“Yes, you are; Ms. Hartily just hasn't told you yet.”

“Get to the point.”

“Right.” Shuffling a bit to sit cross-legged, Sora shifted his weight on to the front of his legs so he could lean forward. “Ask Cid for a last-minute meeting tomorrow, and tell him it's about the dance. Ten minutes later go into his office and ask his secretary to let you through – don't tell her anything about it. Then go into his office and ask him about it. He won't recall a thing.”

Squall, expression deadpan, turned to Sora and grumbled, “Is this supposed to be another glitch?”

Nodding enthusiastically, the boy leaned further forward and stared hard into the teacher's eyes. “Yeah. It's fun to mess with them sometimes, too. Even if you make plans with someone for two different places at the same time, they won't realize it. And they won't go to either one.”

The man resisted the sudden urge to insist the boy needed help. “No offense, but that sounds a little out there.”

“What? Like walking on air?”

Squall stared.

He had to admit; Sora had him there.

Recalling the first time they met, the man's eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Wait – if that's supposed to be a second floor then how did you get down?”

Sora shrugged. “It seems to be situational.”

Squall felt a headache coming on. Pressing two fingers against the space between his eyebrows, he lightly pressed up until his face relaxed. “Great – the invisible floor has an off switch.”

“Not an off switch; situational. Like in that book – 'You just think lovely wonderful thoughts,'” Sora explained, “'and they lift you in the air.'”

All this frowning was hurting Squall's face. “I don't think I've ever read that book.”

“Really?” Sora hummed to himself quietly. “I could have sworn it was required reading.”

“I teach Math.”

Ignoring the man's comment, Sora jumped to his feet and jumped back out on to the invisible floor, holding his arm out in offering. “You should try it!” he proclaimed enthusiastically, motioning for Squall to join him.

The man stared.

The boy offered.

The two stood and sat respectively, staring each other down and waiting for the other to give.

After a good five minutes of this, and realizing that the teen would not give in, Squall submitted. He sighed and stood, setting the camera – no longer running – on the roof next to him. “You sure I won't fall to my death?” he joked.

Sora grinned. “No promises.”

Staring at the outstretched hand for an extra few seconds, then glancing down over the edge of the roof, Squall tentatively reached forward to link his fingers with Sora's. If he did fall, at least he'd have something to slow his bone-crushing descent. “Anything you'd like to suggest?” he muttered halfheartedly.

“You might want to close your eyes,” the boy suggested. “It might help.”

Nodding his consent, Squall squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, they're closed.” If he had to believe, then he'd believe. The world was a black mass for all he cared. All that existed was the floor directly in front of him.

He tried not to jump when Sora first began pulling him away from the roof, leading him on to the second floor. There was still the threat of falling. The man would never admit it, but when Sora's slightly sweaty free hand reached out for his he felt a bit safer. A few steps later he couldn't help but ask, “Am I there yet?” He only received a laugh for his trouble. One step later he nearly gasped.

He was there.

“What is that?” he asked, surprised at the way his foot had sunk nearly half an inch.

“I think it's carpet,” the boy replied, his hands suddenly getting so much more sweaty. He pulled him further, leading him out away from the roof. “How do you feel?”

Squall shook his head. “Weird,” he admitted. The air was strange there. It actually felt – sounded – like they were in a smaller room. Their voices even echoed in the small enclosure. There wasn't even a breeze to hint at the fact that they were outside. But they weren't outside, were they? They were inside; on the invisible second floor of the gymnasium.

Sora laughed again. “You can open your eyes, you know.”

“I know that,” Squall lied. But even after saying this it took him several moments for him to crack an eye open and glanced beneath him. There it was – or wasn't. They were in fact standing in mid air on an invisible carpet in the invisible room of an invisible second story – with no apparent first story to support them. It was strange, almost fantastic, and Squall didn't know if he wanted to scream or cry. He settled for staring at the ground silently.

“Awesome, huh?”

The man nodded. “Amazing.”

“There's another on the third floor of the dorms. You can access it from E block. The view isn't as great, though,” he admitted, shrugging.

At the mention of the view, Leon met the boy's eyes expectantly. He was surprised to find Sora's attention focused elsewhere however. Following his gaze, he stared up at the sky and nearly fell to his knees.

It was great. Great and terrible.

“I don't know why, but because this area technically doesn't exist, the filter doesn't either.”

Black and white static filled the sky from one horizon to the next. Disorientation hit Squall full on, and suddenly he didn't know what to think. This wasn't something some kid could pull off, even with help.

“I tried standing here during the day when I was fifteen,” Sora informed him suddenly. “Everyone thought I was on the roof trying to commit suicide.”

Squall didn't know how to take the information, nor was he very aware of it. Above him was a black and white sky and below his feet was nothing. The world breathed with him – in and out, in and out; expanding with every inhale and shrinking to a pinpoint with each exhale. It shrunk and shrunk until there was only a single point in which he could concentrate. This point flashed black and white and occasionally a shade of gray.

He refused to believe it.

“I guess it's because they aren't programmed to see anything here,” Sora continued.

Closing his eyes, Squall shook his head. “We're not inside a damn computer,” he insisted, ripping his hands out of Sora's and stepping carefully back over to the roof.

Sora stared, emotions passing across his face one after the other. Surprise, confusion, and realization were first. These were quickly chased by shock, more confusion, and finally anger. “What's wrong with you? You've seen the proof! Heck, you're standing on it!”

Once more on solid “ground,”Squall turned to face the boy with a grimace. “I can't explain what I just saw,” he admitted. “But that doesn't give you the right to attempt to force-feed me some far-fetched conspiracy theory about being trapped in some kind of computer program!”

Sora let loose a half scream, half groan. “Fine!” he nearly shouted. “Be that way!”

Squall nearly sprinted away from the scene after dropping down from the roof. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he knew he wanted nothing to do with it.

Besides, Rinoa was waiting for him.

**-RE-**

“You're the AI.”

Squall nearly had a heart attack upon the young girl's arrival. It was the one from the hall – Naminé. She was back to bother him, it seemed. Adjusting the papers that had nearly fallen from his arms in his fright, Squall eyed the girl sternly. It was then that her words settled into his head and he panicked. Shifting all the tests to one arm, he very nearly pushed the girl into his office. Closing the door behind him, he dropped the stack of sheets on his desk and settled into his chair. “What did you say?”

“You're the AI,” she repeated dutifully. “The amount of data this program utilizes jumped last night while Sora was showing you the second floor of the gym. It wasn't a difficult leap.”

The man felt like breaking something. “Did Sora put you up to this?” he demanded sharply. “Because if he did you won't be in any trouble, I assure you.” He was suddenly alarmed at how many lies he'd been telling as of late.

The girl shook her head mutely. “Sora doesn't know me,” she told him softly. “I'm just a back door taking the form of a shadow in his memory. Just a malfunctioning bit of data, really. Even in the real world he wouldn't recognize me.”

“Oh dear God,” Squall groaned, burying his face into his hands. “You think we're in a computer, too.”

Again, she shook her head. “What I think is of no consequence. What matters is what you think.”

A beat of silence followed the admission. Glancing up, Squall fought the urge to simply scream. Instead he muttered through his teeth, “And that's supposed to mean?”

There was a knock at the door.

Glancing between the source of the noise and the girl across the desk, Squall sighed. “Yes?” he called, wondering why he was suddenly so popular.

Easing the door open carefully, Rinoa stuck her head into the room. “Hi S...” Her voice faded into a whisper at the sight of Naminé. Biting her lip, she laughed nervously. “Mr. Leonhart,” she corrected belatedly, although the point was moot. “I just came to inform you that Cid wanted to thank you for graciously _volunteering_ to help chaperone the school dance next week.”

Squall wanted to hurt something. “Yes, thank you Ms. Hartily,” he replied, reaching a hand up to pinch between his eyes. He felt another headache coming on.

The woman grinned and eased out of the room. “I guess I'll just go then.”

Squealing in protest, the door slid closed easily. And in its wake fell a silence that didn't stand a chance against Naminé. “Have you every been under the impression that Sora is trapped?” she asked, completely serious.

Squall turned back to the stack of papers on his desk, shuffling them back into a proper pile. Peering over them at the girl, he informed her confidently, “No; he can leave the school any time.”

The blonde shook her head, hair flying from the intensity of it. She then fixed her eyes directly on Squall's in an intense stare. “The best laid trap isn't always one you can't escape. Rather, it is one you don't want to escape.”

Breathing out a small sigh, the man looked up from the sheets and nearly panicked. He hadn't realized she was staring. Gingerly adjusting the stack without looking, he took a moment to collect himself. The girl was unnerving, at best. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“It means,” she began confidently, leaning back in her chair without moving her eyes from his, “that you keep your eyes open. Watch the situation carefully and figure out for yourself if the world is adjusting to Sora's desires.”

Squall, finding himself out of things to fiddle with, stared right back. “Is that supposed to convince me?”

“No,” she replied quietly, her eyes finally dropping to settle on her lap. The girl seemed to shrink in on herself as she admitted, “It's just a warning.” Rising to her feet, she slowly stepped around her chair and made her way to the door.

“Wait!”

Naminé paused. Then there was silence.

Squall didn't know why he'd called out. He was sure he'd had a question a few seconds before, but it had fled the moment the word fled him. It was strange. It felt like something was missing; like something had clicked into place in his head, only to disappear. And that idea that had supposedly been hijacked had left him shaky and overwhelmed by a desire to... what?

He didn't know.

Naminé smiled. “Would you mind telling Sora what I told you?”

“Huh?” The man frowned, confused. “Why would I do that? Aren't you in league with him?”

Shaking her head, she giggled. “I told you – he doesn't know me.” With that she left.

In her wake remained the remnants of questions floating through Squall's head. And each time he tried to grasp one it would slip away. It felt like being on the edge of an epiphany, but being held back every time he managed to get close. Then he had to watch it slip through his fingers.

**-RE-**

The receptionist for the dormitories was a very helpful woman. Upon seeing Squall's ID card she's pulled open the directory under the desk and listed off Sora's floor and room within seconds. She had even shown him to the elevator and escorted him to the floor just so she could get him directions. At one point he even bothered to ask, “Why are you being so helpful?”

“Two reasons,” the woman replied quietly. “First, it's my job. Second, it's a slow day.” As soon as the elevator slid open she directed him down the hall, then wished him a good day before disappearing into the elevator.

Making his way toward the boy's room, Squall paused as he passed a door with a four for the first number. Wasn't he on the third floor? The rest of the rooms Were labeled with a three. He briefly entertained the idea that it was another glitch before proclaiming himself an idiot and moving on. It was a while before he came to Sora's door, which was marked with a shiny brass 316. Raising his hand, he knocked three times.

It wasn't three seconds before the door was dragged open and Sora peeked his head out. His eyes widened in surprised. “Leon?!”

Squall frowned at the nickname. “It's Mr. Leonhart, if you don't mind.”

“What are you doing here?” the boy asked, ignoring the man's words. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

The man shrugged. “I don't. I'm just here to politely ask you to call off your little girlfriend. And, just a word to the wise; it's a bad idea to involve relationships in pranks.”

Sora gave Squall a strange look, one eyebrow nearly rising into his hairline. “Girlfriend?”

“Yes. Naminé.”

“I don't have a girlfriend,” he replied.

Squall scoffed. “Friend. Whatever.”

He looked equally as confused. “I don't have friends.”

Suddenly a boy appeared at the door – presumably Sora's roommate – and added, “He really doesn't,” before retreating back into the room. “And please keep your voices down,” he shouted from further in. “I'm trying to watch TV!”

Squall sighed. “Look, is there somewhere around here we can talk? Alone?”

Sora shrugged. “Yeah. Follow me.” Quickly snatching a key from a rack on his right, he stepped through the door and into the hall with Squall. “It's down here – a balcony,” the boy informed him as they reached the end of the hall, throwing a set of doors open to reveal a wide open-air structure overlooking the woods. Sora moved to lean against one of the rails, then fixed the teacher with a skeptical grin. “So, you said something about me having a girlfriend?”

“Yeah. She supports your whole 'computer' theory. Seems to be under the impression that the entire world is a prison designed to keep you in.” Glancing over at the boy, Squall was surprised to find the smile gone. “What?”

“She's wrong,” he stated confidently. “I'm a program – I just glitched when I was five or so. An entire corner of my room was an incomplete space.”

Squall shook his head. “If you were a program you wouldn't glitch like that. You'd start slowing down, or see something different.”

“Maybe I'm an AI.”

“You're not an AI.” The man wanted to kick something. Then his phone rang. Reaching into his pocket to retrieve the device, unaware of the eyes following his every move, he grinned at the collar ID and answered. “Hi, Rinoa.”

The man's sudden switch from angry to nearly giggly almost gave Sora whiplash. “Is that your girlfriend?” he asked suddenly, voice clipped.

Rinoa was saying something on the other end of the line, but Squall couldn't hear it. It felt like something was rustling around in his head, moving things every which was in an attempt to reorganize. But things were being misplaced, and others lost. For a good half-second the man couldn't breathe. And at the center of it all was Sora's face at that very moment, a mix of crestfallen, hopeful, and disappointment. Squall was going to say, “Yes.” He even went to move his jaw, only to find it frozen. Then it was like he wasn't even in his own body any more, and was watching the entire scene from afar as he answered, “No – it's my cousin.”

On the other end of the line, Rinoa laughed. “ _I heard that_ ,” she giggled. “ _You, a girlfriend? That's hilarious._ ”

Somewhere far away, Squall watches himself make small talk, then laugh a little and hang up. Without warning he's thrust back into his body and he's disoriented. His phone is in his hand – he's staring down at it in shock – and Sora's mumbling something about why it's so weird for Squall to have a girlfriend. But despite this confusion he sounds happy. Then the man turns his head up to face the boy.

He doesn't expect the first wave of emotion to hit him – and it hits him hard. Suddenly his knees were shaking and his palms were sweating; his heart beating a mile a minute. It was as if all his affection for Rinoa had been concentrated and redirected. And what's worse, it seemed to be centered on Sora.

“What's wrong, Leon?”

Leaning up against the railing with the boy, Squall savored the nickname for a moment. It sounded good. It sounded familiar. It sounded _right_. And after he was finished savoring it he felt dread settling in. This wasn't him – he was in love with Rinoa. But then again, he wasn't. She's his _cousin_. The man shook his head. _No_ , he thought to himself. _She wasn't my cousin ten minutes ago_.

“Did she say something weird?”

The man shook his head. “No. She just wanted to ask about my day, and laugh at the idea of me having a girlfriend, apparently,” he added venomously.

Sora grimaced. “How is that funny?”

“I don't know.” Keeping his eyes trained on the woods far below, Squall rested all his weight on the railing in an attempt to remain standing. “You should probably know,” he began softly, voice almost lost to the wind. “I believe you.”

“Huh?”

“I believe you. We... We're inside a computer. We have to be.” _Because if we aren't we're living in a world where you can remotely control and rearrange someone's brain_.

Sora's eyes went wide, and he looked up at Leon with an expression similar to awe. “Really?”

“Yeah,” the man admitted with a smile, though he actually felt like screaming. “I'm convinced.” Peering over the edge, he momentarily considered jumping. It was three floors. Maybe it could kill him. But even as he tried to move his feet his programming wouldn't let him. His knees wouldn't even move. Thinking back to what Naminé had said – about the world adjusting to Sora's desires – he fought a scream. It may have been Sora's jail, but the program had made Sora the jailer. As long as the boy wanted something to happen, it would. This included Leon liking him.

He entertained the idea that if he managed to get Sora out of the program it would all default. He'd be back to his old life with Rinoa instead of stuck in someone's messed up prison. Yes; that's what he wanted. And while this thought hurts him a little, he fights the emotion back. That was the computer, not him. “We should go looking for glitches.”

Sora laughed. “That actually sounds like fun,” he admitted, stepping forward to lean against the railing beside Leon. He smiles big as their elbows brush. “But why the sudden interest?”

Squall felt like sobbing. Just touching the boy's elbow was nearly driving him mad. What had been a manageable sensation before was now roaring through him, making his head pound and his eyes throb. “No reason, really,” he lies. “I was just thinking that it could be fun. Besides, we might find a way out of this program.” _For you, at least. Then I can go back to my life._

The boy, in all his wisdom and fortitude up until that point, did not react well. “What?”

Turning to face his companion, Leon was surprised to find himself being glared down by a pair of furious blue eyes. “What?”

“I don't want to get out,” Sora insisted, stepped away from the railing. “Why would you want that?”

“What if we're trapped here?” the man supplied, turning to fully face the teenager pitching a fit at his back. “What if this is some kind of prison like Naminé said and there's a whole world out there where we belong?” _Where you belong_.

The boy's head snapped back and forth, denying Leon's words without hesitation. “I like it here,” he stated firmly. Whether unintentional or not, his foot came up a bit and stomped the ground in a predatory manner.

Squall fought the sudden urge to yell. Sora was being entirely childish! This was a serious situation and the boy would rather remain trapped than regain his old life. It wasn't a game, and while the teen had done a good job convincing Squall of that he seemed unable to grasp it himself. It was infuriating. “You like it here, huh?” he asked venomously. “Ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?”

Then Sora was yelling, telling him to mind his own business. That he had no right to judge him and that he never should have showed him the glitches. For the first time in his life he doesn't feel alone, and he can't even savor that. The boy repeats this at least three more times using different words. But after a while the topic of his rant starts to change. There was no way out; not even physically. He's tried, and it never works.

Eventually he burst into tears, and Leon took him into his arms and let the boy beat his fists against his chest. There the teen continued his breakdown, muttering curses at the world and practically screaming in the same breath that he couldn't bear to leave it. And after a while all he would say was one broken little line over and over again.

“It's all your fault,” he would whimper. He'd long since dropped to his knees and was gripping Leon's shirt like a lifeline. “It's all your fault.”

**-RE-**

Leon wouldn't say he was avoiding Sora.

Well, he was, but he wasn't about to admit it to anyone.

It had been nearly four days since he had witnessed the boy's breakdown, and still felt incredibly awkward about the whole thing. It didn't help that he couldn't burn off any stress with Rinoa as he usually did. And while he'd have loved to ask Naminé her opinion on the whole thing, he was shocked to find the girl absent from her usual place in front of (or behind) his office door. For the first two days of avoiding Sora he'd taken this as a blessing, but as questions arose he found himself seeking her out.

He asked around; teachers, students, even the principal. No one knew her. The office had no record of a Naminé Stoner. Even Rinoa didn't remember the girl sitting in his office when she went told him he had “volunteered” to chaperone the dance. He wracked his brain for hours, attempting to remember every word she'd ever said to him. Why was she gone? Why was she gone _now_? Words rose from his memories, unbidden.

 _But if I make contact the program will just delete me like it did Roxas_.

Deletion.

It made sense; they were inside a computer after all. Why wouldn't smaller programs that cause problems within the whole be deleted?

Leon bit back a sigh. He was in the midst of grading papers, and he didn't need to be thinking. But it was hard not to when every other minute someone was stepping into his classroom and sitting through a lesson he'd given three hours before.

If he wasn't convinced he was inside a computer before, he was now. Half the staff and students had slowed to a crawl – literally. Their speech was drawled slowly, footsteps drawn out, and whenever they jumped their program would bug out and stall, leaving them in midair. One of the girls in his class didn't even have a head. Oddly enough, Leon seemed to be the only person to notice this. Although he was pretty sure Sora, wherever he might have been, was well aware of the glitches riddling the system.

Everything seemed to be falling apart.

**-RE-**

That night, when Leon got home, he found Sora sitting outside his apartment door. Within seconds the dregs of anger left over from their argument drained from his body and he just felt weak. “It's ten O'clock.”

“Yeah,” Sora agreed. “You were working pretty late.”

Leon made a face. “It's hard to grade something when the students are still turning in tests at 9PM,”he drawled, waiting patiently as Sora slowly rose to his feet and moved away from the door. “How did you get here?” he asked, unlocking and stepping into his apartment.

“Walked.” The boy was fast on his heels, practically jumping in to the man's apartment and shutting the door behind him. He quickly settled on to the couch, watching closely, almost obsessively, as Leon set a stack of papers on the coffee table. For a moment he thought to himself that Leon carried around far more stacks of papers than he really, logically should. Even for a teacher, it was ridiculous.

Going over to the fridge, Leon stared into it for a long moment before closing it to fix Sora with a look. “Hold on - what did you do about the monsters?”

Sora shrugged, leaning his upper body against the back of the couch. Resting his chin atop his crossed arms, he settled into a glassy-eyed stare. “They don't attack me.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he mumbled. “Seriously – what did you do about them?”

“Nothing,” the boy insisted, his head tilting a bit to the side so he could observe a particularly flawless space of empty wall opposite him. “Monsters don't have any interest in me.”

Leon was quiet for a long time before he murmured a small, “Huh,” and turn back to the fridge. Reaching in, he retrieved a pot of soup he'd made the day before. Balancing it carefully in one arm, he slammed the door shut and placed it on the stove, removing the plastic wrap from the top.

Sora, curious, asked, “What'cha makin'?”

“Reheating soup,” the man replied quickly, setting the heat to medium in hope it wouldn't be ready until the boy left. It was becoming ridiculous; the reaction his body had to the teenager. It was like he was on fire. With every little movement the boy made he was reminded that he was only a few feet away. That he _wanted_ Leon to like him. That he _wanted_ it to happen. He'd made Leon the way he was, and he wasn't throwing him so much as a bone. And it _burned_.

Then Sora yawned, stood, and stretched. A little bit of his shirt rode up, revealing a small strip of tantalizing skin.

Leon was suddenly very glad he was in the kitchen as another part of him came alive at the sight. Internally, a war of strangely epic proportions was being waged between his libido and his common sense. His common sense stated clearly that Sora was not only a student, but Leon didn't love him. They were both at delicate points in their life. Not to mention that it simply would not do to take the boy when they hadn't so much as kissed. His libido however had a much louder voice, and was screaming that he should just take him now, consequences be damned. It didn't even seem to matter that he didn't have a clue as to how he would go about it. He wasn't gay, and they didn't just teach these things in school.

“You know, you probably shouldn't be here,” Leon advised quietly, hoping Sora would get his desperate hint. “You're a student. I could be fired on suspicion of fraternization.”

Shaking his head sharply, Sora laughed. “Two guys? Fraternization? Seriously?”

“What?” Leon scoffed, suddenly offended. Did Sora just want him to like him just because it would be flattering? The thought was an infuriating one. “It happens.”

“Yeah, but I could go around slapping the butt of every girl in school and none of them would react. It's not in their programming.”

Leon's eyes narrowed. “You would certainly receive detention, though.”

“Yeah, from you,” the boy supplied, laughing. “Nothing bad happens here. There is no crime, and thus no punishment. In case you hadn't noticed, no one else in the school hands out detentions.”

Not bothering to argue with the boy, either because it sounded ridiculous or because he was right, Leon pulled out a drawer and withdrew a stirring spoon. He prodded the soup a bit, not confident enough to spark a conversation. It was odd; conspiracy theories he could handle. Regular old conversation? It drove him insane. What should he say? Why should he have to speak at all? None of it made sense.

There was a bit of shuffling across the room, and Leon glanced over in time to witness Sora practically tearing his hoodie off. His shirt rode up once again, but higher this time, putting his stomach on display. Leon hadn't known what to expect. Hadn't thought about the boy's body once in the days he'd spent avoiding the teen. But whatever he thought he might have expected, it certainly wasn't this.

The kid was built.

Hard, taught muscle bunched under his skin, ready to spring at any moment. Flawless abs, a deep V-line in his hips, and – when his shirt button caught on the inner lining of the hoodie – a perfectly formed pair of pecs. This was when Leon froze, eyes glued on the spectacle as Sora continued to war with the jacket as it caught on his chin, as well. It wasn't the boy's chest, necessarily, that caught his attention, but what was on it. Just to the side of a dusky nipple, where his heart should be, was a bright scar in the shape of a key hole.

Tearing his eyes away from the sight, he turned his attention instead to the soup. Occasionally he would glance up to see how Sora was faring – little better, usually – until finally the boy managed to untangle himself. He tossed the hoodie to the couch, shouting at it in what Leon could only guess was another language. Though where he learned it, he had no idea.

“So,” he began, earning the boy's attention. “Where'd you get the scar?”

“Scar?” Sora seemed to think to himself before realizing what Leon was referred to. “Oh, that!” He frowned, then turned bright pink. “I didn't know my shirt rode up that far.”

“It did,” Leon informed him confidently, though he was horribly turned on. He felt like smashing his head into something. Just how ridiculously attractive did Sora think he should be?

“I, uh...” The boy swallowed heavily. “It just appeared when I was about fourteen. Kind of like a late birthmark or something.” He shrugged, a noncommittal gesture if there ever was, then went quiet. He watched Leon as he stirred the soup, thinking.

Glancing up, the man sighed. “Out with it.”

“Huh?”

“You're thinking something weird. Out with it.”

Sora fidgeted. “I just... About what happened a few days ago – I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to break down like that-”

“People rarely do.”

“- and I just want you to know that it won't happen again.”

Squall stared. “Is that all?”

“Well, uh... no,” the boy admitted. “I just – I've been thinking about what you said. About Stockholm Syndrome.”

Silence.

“And?” Leon prompted, growing short on patience.

“And...” the boy choked out, pausing to bite his lip before barreling on, practically stumbling over the words. “I think you've got it wrong. I'm _definitely_ the program.”

The man scoffed. He considered for a moment telling Sora about Rinoa – how they'd been serious about each other for years. They slept together, ate together, and were talking about living together. Then, boom! Cousins. Leon had lost his virginity to that woman, and now it apparently never happened.

He was tempted to tell Sora about his childhood; that upon thinking back he can't remember anything before he was six. Can't remember his parents as anything but vague silhouettes in the back of his head who sent him to the same boarding school he taught at. He almost told the boy flat out that he'd never felt the way about someone the way he did about him. With Rinoa it had been a desire bubbling up from somewhere deep within him, but with Sora it was an all-encompassing buzz through his system that didn't leave until the boy was out of the picture. It was an obsessive sort of sensation. One that would have made him bow to its will long before had he been a lesser man. Had he been any fonder of people in general. And even then, he was wearing painfully thin.

In his thoughts, the man didn't notice Sora approaching, peering into the pot of soup and sniffing it experimentally. “Smells good,” he offered. “Can I have some?”

Without thinking, Leon stirred the contents of the pot twice before offering a bit on the spoon for Sora to try. And the moment the boy's lips puckered together for him to blow he was a goner. Dropping the spoon back into the soup before the boy could take a sip, Leon took hold of Sora's shoulders and pushed him back, back, back until his back hit the fridge.

The boy's eyes went wide as he stared up at the man, scared and excited and confused. “Leon...?”

Squall suddenly wants to tell the teenager so much. That his coloring doesn't match that of anyone else there. That his eyes are the brightest blue he's ever seen. That his skin is too tan for the kind of weather they get – a mixture of overcast and rain. He wants to tell him that every part of the boy is like a magnet, dragging him closer and driving him insane.

He wanted to say that the nickname the boy had given him was somewhat of a turn on at that point. That everything about him was a turn on. The hair that naturally defied gravity, the shorts that revealed long shapely legs, the shoes that were a size or two too big – everything. Squall especially liked the way Sora's breath brushed the bottom of his chin as the boy heaved breath after desperate breath. He wants to lean down and kiss him – just kiss him, nothing too horrible. Except he wants to do something horrible. He wants to possess and love and break the boy all at once and it's _absolutely infuriating_ that is hasn't just _happened_ yet.

But Leon holds himself back. He restrains himself the same way he had since the boy decided he wanted his affections; by moving away. But this time it doesn't work. Hands come up to cradle his chin, drawing him down and guiding his lips to a softer pair just a few inches away. The effect is immediate. Hands begin to clutch at shoulders and shirts, dragging them over torsos taught with impatience. Article after article of clothing is practically ripped off, and before Leon can even think to stop them they're in the hallway. They couldn't make it to the bedroom, it seems.

Shortly after this they're flush against the headboard. It's a weird angle until Sora slips, and then he's begging – begging to go slower, to go faster, to go softer and harder and to just stop _doing_ that _thing_ already because it's driving him _crazy_. And Leon knows exactly what to do because it's flooding his head like he studied it. Condoms, lube – he has everything he needs, and he knows how to use them. Before long Sora's on his back, and he's already come twice but Leon has yet to reach that pinnacle. So he takes the boy again, and there's screaming that time around.

Sora screamed Leon's name, how much he loved what he was doing. But mostly he just screamed; an unintelligible, wordless throat-tearing dissonance that professed just how good a job the older man was doing.

When they finished, Leon collapsed to Sora's side and choked out a laugh. “Wow,” he manages to breathe after a while. “That was... wow.” He doesn't know why, but sex with Rinoa had never been so... vibrant. It was almost worth the trade; free will for _amazing sex_. Usually the man didn't figure himself to be so shallow, but... _wow_. After an hour alone with the boy killing for love didn't seem all that strange. If it meant keeping that sort of perfection in his life, he would _gladly_ do it. And while this train of thought made him think he was fake and more the tool of the program than ever, it was comforting. Even if he was enslaved, at least the program had the decency to make him happy.

After this Sora leaned over to plant a series of kisses across Leon's collarbone and neck, hoarsely whispering sweet nothings into the silence. “That was incredible,” the boy mumbled, nibbling at the teacher's Adams apple.

“You better stop before we go again,” the man advised breathlessly. Despite his words, Leon tangled his hands in the boy's hair as he worked his way along the line of his neck.

Nibbling at Leon's right ear, Sora laughed quietly. “Yeah,” he agreed in a whisper. “I want to walk tomorrow, thanks.”

The man smiled at this, burying his face in the top of the boy's head and inhaling. It was a potent mix of sweat and musk. It was nearly sweeter than Rinoa's perfume, and he found himself preferring it. This scared him for a moment, as it didn't feel like he was being manipulated. He simply found the smell intoxicating to the point of pausing to breathe it in over and over again, filling his lungs with the boy's scent and getting on some sort of high. He didn't love the boy on his own – that was all the program's doing. But the boy's smell brought something out in him he didn't know was possible.

A surge of desire, tinged with a feeling of safety. For a moment it felt as if Sora were the only person in the world with the power to protect him from something. Everything. “I want to walk with you,” he confessed into the boy's hair, eyes drifting closed. “I want to walk with you in the real world.”

Sora looked up at him, face so full of trust, admiration, and sincerity that the man was thrown for a moment. Because not far below that he can see something they haven't talked about yet. Hadn't so much as hinted. But it's there, and Sora's staring at him like he's the most important person in the world. “I'd like that,” the boy whispered, nudging his nose against Leon's.

Arching his neck up, the man planted a kiss between his lover's eyes and leaned back with a smile. He didn't want to admit that the emotion scared him. That the stakes had just been raised. Leon didn't pretend to know what was going on with the program, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to follow Sora out of it. And for some reason he was okay with this while simultaneously furious at the thought of being separated from the boy he'd known for less than a week. Suddenly feeling out of place in his large bed, Leon moved to get up.

The boy nearly fell from his chest, looking up at his lover curiously as the man slipped out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” the man told him calmly, leaning down to collect his boxers from the floor. He frowned, stared at them for a moment, and tossed them into the laundry basket by the closet. Stepping over to the dresser, he retrieved a clear pain before leaving.

Sora leaned back in bed, staring at the ceiling in silence before the tell-tale flush of a toilet and the bathroom door opening told his off the man's imminent arrival. Sitting up once more, he leaned against the headboard and suggested, “We should do something.”

Leon grinned, and Sora thought his heart would stop. “It's three in the morning,” the man pointed out, motioning with one hand toward the clock on the bedside table. Lifting his blankets, the man slid in beside his young lover and leaned down to kiss along his neck once more as the boy observed the clock.

Sora giggled at the attention, a big smile splitting his face in two. It was, in fact, three in the morning. Turning away from the clock, he latched his lips to Leon's. It nearly made him faint – it still felt like the first time. Granted, they'd only been together for a few hours. If you could call what they had “together.” Nevertheless, he felt happier than he'd been for a while. He didn't remember feeling this loved as a child, growing up on the outskirts of the nearby town. Or when he had his first girlfriend, Kairi, at five years old – even though that only lasted for a few days. But even before that, there had been a void.

But wait – what was before childhood? He wouldn't remember infancy that vividly.

There was something about the monsters under his bed. Impurity of souls.

Moving shadows?

“If you're so eager, let's go for a drive,” Leon suggested, bringing the boy out of his reverie.

“Huh?”

“You wanted to do something,” the man reminded him. “Let's go for a drive. Nothing's open at this time.”

Sora grinned, then threw his arms around the man. “Can we go to the dock?”

Leon shrugged. “Okay.” Pressing another kiss to the top of the boy's head, he nuzzled Sora's hair a bit. “Would you like to take a shower first, and maybe borrow some of my clothes?”

The boy, confused, glanced down and found his thighs to be a sticky mess, as was his stomach. Blushing like virgin, he nodded vigorously and hopped out of bed.

**-RE-**

The drive to the next town wasn't very long – fifteen minutes at the most. With a top-heavy crescent moon in the sky the two stared out at the water off the dock from the interior of the jeep. It felt like the entire world was at a standstill, even with the civilians walking slowly around them. The glitches had far from cleared up. The two began to play a game – how many people were glitching?

“There's Zell's mom,” Squall pointed out, arm extending to wave at the woman who was pulling fish from mid-air and handing an invisible person money. “Looks like she's grocery shopping.” He laughed as her entire image flickered, then reappeared somewhere else. For all of three steps she went a normal speed before flickering again and slowing to a near stop.

Leon watched Sora's expressions carefully, attempting to enjoy the situation. He had his fair share of odd glitches on his side, but didn't bother bringing them to attention. The last thing he wanted to say was that in his rear-view mirror a man had been having a heart attack in slow motion for the last half out. That he was convulsing on the ground every five minutes or so, his arm flung off to the side at an odd angle. Occasionally he would go into real time. The first time this had happened he'd clutched at his chest and opened his mouth to scream. But then he flickered and no sound came out.

Turning his eyes away from the sight, Leon grinned at the boy. “You want to go somewhere else?”

Sora shrugged. “Could we drive off the dock?”

Leon blinked. “Excuse me; did you just suggest a double suicide?”

The boy shook his head vehemently. “Nothing like that. The dock is a glitch.”

“Oh really?” the man mused, turning his eyes to stare off at the edge of the dock. “Where does it lead?”

“No idea.”

Grinning morbidly, Leon turned the ignition. “Well, we're just going to have to fix that, aren't we?”

Sora nodded violently, head bobbing up at down along with the rumble of the engine.

The man didn't stop to think about what he was doing; it was just another glitch. So as he gunned the engine and took off, driving away from the old man having a heart attack and toward the end of the dock, he bathed in the sudden wash of freedom he felt. The tires left the pavement. Down, down, down they went. And the moment the front of the jeep hit the water it felt like a hook had been inserted into his spine. Then he was being transported – dragged back bodily along with Sora and the jeep at what felt like one-hundred fifty miles per hour.

Trees.

“We're in the forest,” Sora observed happily, noting the high wall in the distance. “The one near the school!”

Leon nodded, thrown for a loop. He hadn't expected the glitch to actually work. He'd hoped the entire system would crash and he'd be put out of his misery. But it had, and he was suddenly glad it did. He didn't want to die; didn't want to be deleted. He wanted to be with Sora – spend time with him, learn to love him. The man didn't notice a tree flickering in the distance and move, or a shadow shift momentarily into a mix of black and white fuzz.

The boy's hand landed on the back of his neck, and then they were kissing. It was desperate and heavy, and when they finally fell apart Sora breathed, “Let's do that again.”

Leon couldn't agree more.

Gunning the car toward the town, the man allowed his eyes to wander. They were going so fast that droplets of water from the ocean had dragged their way up the jeep and were sliding up the windshield. Despite their speed, Sora was perfectly calm.

“You're not spooked from my driving, are you?” the man asked, half knowing the answer.

The boy shook his head. “No – it's nothing, really.” He didn't bother mentioning that he had a feeling he's been in much faster vehicles, not always piloted by the greatest drivers. But he didn't want to say it. The very thought made his head hurt.

They drove into the town, Leon taking sharper and sharper turns until they were at the dock. Once more they flew off the end and into the water. But this time the man didn't release the gas, and they hit the forest floor at a good eighty miles per hour. They drove for a bit, whooping and hollering, until Leon turned his eyes to the “road.”

In the very center was a pair of bright blue eyes.

He slammed on the breaks.

For a heart-stopping twenty seconds they slid forward, the car catching on leaves and sliding further than they would have on pavement. He took another sharp turn, and they nearly fell into a roll. Luckily they stopped just short of a tree, breathing heavy and eyes wide.

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Leon was shocked to find the person still there, looking over at them expectantly. It wasn't a glitch – someone was actually there.

“Sora, stay in the car.”

“Huh?”

“Just stay in the car,” the man told him again, unbuckling his seat belt and opening his door wide to step out. His footsteps were rushed, and at one point he was nearly running. And as he approached he realized something very off.

The person was Sora, but blond and older. He looked about Leon's age.

“Hello, Mr. Leonhart,” the man greeted eerily, eyes meeting the brunet's without hesitation.

Leon bristled. “What do you think you're doing here? I could have hit you!”

The man's eyes seemed to glow an eerie blue in the moonlight. “But you didn't.”

“Look, it's four in the morning. What do you think you're doing here?”

“I've come to inform you,” the man began, lips moving hypnotically. They were Sora's lips, set beneath Sora's nose and Sora's eyes. It was disorienting, seeing it on another person.

As the stranger's words sunk in, Leon couldn't help but ask, “Who are you?”

The man's grin grew. It was a friendly thing, but under the half-light of the moon it simply seemed ominous. “My name is Ventus, and you've been looking for me.”

The teacher frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm a back door.” Blue eyes turned to the car, glinting affectionately.

Leon scoffed. “How many of you are there?”

“Four.”

Suddenly unbalanced by the exact answer – a first if there ever was one – the man turned his eyes to the ground and scuffed his boot against a rock. “So what do you want?”

“I'm here to inform you that you're on the right track.”

“Track?” Leon scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

Turning his eyes back to the teacher, Ventus' smile dropped. “To break Sora out.”

“How do you know that?”

“I've seen the evidence; I know what you're doing.”

Leon's eyes narrowed. “There's something I'd like to know – why don't you just go up to Sora and tell him how to get out? Wouldn't that be faster?”

Shaking his head slowly, Ventus broke out in a small smile. “I would only be deleted. Sorry, but I don't want that to happen.”

“Is that what happened to Naminé?”

“Yes; and Roxas.”

Going quiet, the teacher fixed his eyes on the stranger for a moment before sighing once more. “So,” he began softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How do we get out of here?”

“The program.”

“What about it?”

Ventus' grin turned dark. “Crash it.”

“How-” Leon cut himself off abruptly as there was the slam of a car door and the other man's eyes went wide. Spinning on the balls of his feet, he turned to see Sora racing toward them in the dark. “Sora, I told you to stay in the car!”

“You're not my keeper!” the teen replied, running up to the two with a frown. But the moment he turned to Ventus all expression dropped from his face. “Hey, where'd he go?”

Turning back, Leon cursed. “Well, this is just great.”

“Leon, what just happened?”

The man grunted, then starting hoofing his way back to the car. “He got deleted,” he snapped. “Happy?”

Sora was on his heels in an instant, crowding beside him and reaching a hand forward to snag the back of the man's jacket. Digging his feet into the ground, he drew them to a halt. “What are you talking about?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Yes, it does!” the boy insisted, stepping around the man so they could make eye contact. “Is it my fault he was deleted?”

Leon didn't expect the sudden explosion of fury within him, burning his face and ears. “Yes.”

“Why did-”

“He was going to tell me how to get you out,” the man spat. “But the rules of the program say he can't come in contact with you.”

“How does-” Sora swallowed heavily, dropping his eyes to the ground. “How did he know how to get me out?”

Leon shrugged. “Beats me.”

The two remained quiet for a long time, before they both naturally gravitated toward the jeep. Leon dropped Sora off at the dorms before heading home.

**-RE-**

It was three days before the dance. Leon had a sinking feeling that it would be their only chance to crash the computer. Everyone would probably have to be fitted with a secondary subroutine in order to dance, and that meant RAM expenditure. He didn't pretend to know much about computers, but he did know how to find himself in the middle of a blue screen. It was during this thought that he first saw her – the girl that looked like Naminé. Blue eyes, dainty limbs, thin nose; the resemblance was uncanny. The only difference was the hair.

That's when it occurred to him; _If Ventus had looked like Sora, then do the other back doors look like Naminé?_

She didn't _look_ abnormal.

There was no way to know for sure, except to ask.

But just as class ended he looked up and found the girl glitching. Leon sighed. She wouldn't respond to outside stimulus for a while.

**-RE-**

Leon couldn't remember the last time he'd gone to the teacher's lounge to get coffee. The last few days had merged into a jumble of glitches and revelations. And for a moment he wondered why he bothered with his job any more. He idly wondered how long if would take the girl – Kairi – to come out of her glitching, and how he should approach the girl, only to be startled into reality by the door crashing open. It was Rinoa. And she wasn't alone.

Attached to the woman at the lip was a man Leon recognized as the P.E. teacher. What had his name been – Ames? Arlen? Andrews?

 _Almasy_ , a part of him whispered bitterly. _Seifer Almasy_.

Suddenly his forehead hurt. But wait – didn't it always? He had a scar. Seifer gave it to him in a training session. But wait – hadn't he gotten it falling out of a tree? Or no; maybe it was from...

His thoughts trailed off abruptly as he realized it was just another computer trick. There was probably an error somewhere in his code. It would explain why everything seemed to be meshing. And seeing as he'd been through so many drastic rewrites it was more than likely. The man didn't claim to know much about computers, other than kicking not working with the newer models. But he knew the more you messed with a program, the buggier it got.

It would explain why he had a sudden rush of nostalgia at seeing the two lovers together. _Is that the right word?_ he wondered to myself momentarily. _Lovers?_ They certainly seemed it. They seemed comfortable. Familiar.

 _I'm sorry, but I just can't keep going like this_.

A sudden memory floating to the surface was the last thing the man expected. Rinoa – not his cousin, not a teacher, just Rinoa in a long blue sweater and shorts – nearly in tears looking at him over a cup of coffee.

 _I've been seeing someone else_.

He remembered pain; remembered his heart breaking and the sudden realization that they could not, in fact, have worked in the long run. But that didn't make him want to try any less.

Where had the memory come from? Definitely not from the program. Rinoa was now his cousin. They'd never dated in the first place. But somewhere else they had. And somewhere else she had left him. Turning his eyes to the couple, the pain of his heart breaking was suddenly overwhelmed by a hope budding within him, starting somewhere in his chest and spreading to his toes.

_Am I human, too?_

**-RE-**

Leon was half-giddy for the rest of the day, stuck in a haze of hope and elation. He could follow Sora out of the program. They could be together even after leaving. It was more than he had hoped. On his way to his office all he could think about was the possibilities in the outside world. The first thing they had to do was find out how to crash the computer and-

“Hello, Mr. Leonhart.”

Leon barely managed to contain a shout of fright as he opened the door and realized there was a girl in his office. (Again.) At the very least he knew what to expect this time. “Hello – I'm sorry, what's your name?”

The girl – girl? – smiled. She didn't look like anyone he'd ever seen, but at the same time she did. It was as it her entire face was a collage of memories that couldn't be organized. “Xion.”

“Xion?”

“I'm not in your class, if that's what you're asking.”

Leon nodded silently, walking around the girl in the chair and settling into his desk. “What brings you here?”

“You know why.”

The man scoffed. “Humor me.”

“Because you've been looking for me.”

Nodding slowly, Leon leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Kairi wasn't the last back door.”

“Of course not,” the girl stated matter-of-fact. “We back doors are the holes in Sora's memories. Entire sections that don't make sense. Kairi was a part of him that could not be removed, even when his entire being had been ripped to pieces. The requirement to be a back door is to be hidden within Sora's heart without his knowledge. The system does not read us because it can only be aware of what Sora knows. Roxas, Naminé, and myself were all forgotten.”

“Forgotten?”

“It's complicated.”

Leon frowned. “You said Roxas and Naminé. What about Ventus?”

“He's also complicated.”

Leaning back in his chair, the man fixed the girl sitting across from him with a blank look. “You seem to know more than the others. Any particular reason for that?”

Xion shrugged. “Our level of access in the system appears to be directly related to how deeply buried we are in Sora's memory. I'm not even human.”

“Then what are you?”

“A memory. One that was shattered and erased.”

The man's eyes narrowed in confusion. “You're dead?”

Much to Leon's surprise, the girl smiled. It was a small, sad thing that seemed to suck the energy from the room. “You could say that.” Shaking her head, the smile disappeared. “I'm here to warn you, though; you need to be careful.”

The words struck a chord the man didn't expect. Suddenly his hope was gone; replaced by a sense of foreboding that gnawed at his insides. “Why?”

“The programmers are starting to slip,” she informed him. “They're taking fewer precautions in data modification to keep Sora inside. Before long we might end up in the middle of a meltdown. The programmers will do anything to prevent that, and the first thing they'll do is delete the largest chunk of extraneous data.”

Immediately Leon was stumped. Extraneous data? What could that mean? The invisible second story of the gym? The glitches? Second period rush hour? “What's this 'extraneous data?'”

“I can't say.”

“Can you give me a hint?”

Xion shook her head violently, hands moving to clench in her lap. “No. If I give you a hint I'll be deleted. I can only tell you things that don't effect the outcome. As the final back door I can't take any risks.” She turned her eyes to him, then, staring up at him intently with her mouth in a grim line and her eyes big against her face.

 _She looks exactly like Naminé_ , Leon realized. Shaking his head, he tried not to sound too angry as he asked, “What do you need me to do?” Her look was too obvious; he had to ask.

“Talk to Sora,” she told him bluntly. “Tell him everything Ventus and Naminé told you. But keep me out of it. The less he knows about me, the better chance we have of crashing the program.”

Leon allowed himself a small grin as the girl stood and left his office without another word. It seemed he'd be getting out of the program sooner than he thought.

Not wanting to waste any time, he tossed the papers he was going to grade to the side of his desk and walked out of his office. Work could wait.

**-RE-**

Leon's walk to the dormitories was as uneventful as walks could get. School had just ended, so many of the students were dropping off their things in their rooms. As he made his way through the foyer he hoped he wouldn't miss the boy. Taking the elevator to the third floor, he tried not to walk too fast down the hall. Students were crowding around doors, eager to take a load off after school and spend time with friends. The teacher passed entire hoards of these students, pausing only to give room 404 a suspicious glance before moving on.

Strangeness aside, the room gave him a bad vibe.

Arriving at Sora's room, Leon knocked three times and was greeted by Sora's roommate.

The boy frowned. “You again?”

“Yeah. Is Sora here?”

Shrugging, the teen gestured off to the right, down the hall. “He's on the balcony trying to kill himself again.”

Leon blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Look, don't get me involved. Just see for yourself and leave me out of it, okay?” Slamming the door harshly, Sora's roommate disappeared from view with a dark grumble.

Looking properly scandalized, the teacher blinked a few times before turning and making his way down the hall. When he came to the doors to the balcony and threw them open he could only laugh.

There was an invisible extension there, too.

Closing the doors quietly behind him – it seemed Sora hadn't heard him – he crept up to the edge of the overhang and tested the empty air with his hand. Solid. Pushing himself over the ledge, he joined Sora in the suddenly black and white space. “Hey.”

The boy jumped at his arrival, turning wide eyes to the man at his side. “Leon?!” he whispered, shocked. “How did you know where I was?”

“I asked around, stupid,” the man mumbled. “Seriously; trying to 'kill yourself' does tend to draw attention.”

“Eh.” Sora waved it off. “Everyone's used to it by now. It's like a 'boy who cried wolf' sort of situation at this point.”

“Except you never cried wolf.”

“It's close enough.”

The pair grinned, and Leon slid his hand across to tangle it with Sora's. Immediately a bundle of heat burst to life in his stomach, and he found himself leaning down for a kiss. The boy was more than willing, his lips catching on Leon's in a fervor similar to what they had several days before.

“So...” Sora began, drawing away. “You're not angry at me any more?”

Shaking his head, Leon pressed their foreheads together. “No, I'm not. In fact, I have some pretty good news.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” the man mumbled, drawing away. Throwing his arm around Sora's shoulders, he stared off into the expanse of static that was their sky and filled the boy in on everything Naminé and Ventus had told him. It didn't take long, but it felt like eternity. And when he finally got the last of the words out Sora was staring up at him in wonder.

“So all we have to do is crash the program and we're free to go?”

Shrugging, the man felt a grin nearly as enthusiastic as his young lover's spread across his face. “Seems like it.”

Leaning into the man's arms, Sora sighed. “I wonder what could do that...”

Without warning, Leon was hit with a memory. An image of him and other people summoning flashes of fire with their bare hands. And it was then that he realized. “Magic-”

Sora fell over, his support suddenly gone. Planting his hands firmly against the invisible floor, he brought himself up on his elbows and frowned. “Hey, what was that for?” he asked, glancing up at Leon.

But there was no one there.

Craning his head in every direction, Sora screwed up his eyes. “Leon?” It was strange. He could still feel the heat of the man against his skin. The warmth of the teacher's fingers against his shoulder, clutching him possessively. And yet he was alone.

It was only after running down the hall, begging everyone there to tell him where Mr. Leonhart went, that he realized something off. No one knew who he was talking about. Teachers didn't come to the third floor, and there certainly wasn't any Mr. Leonhart.

Sora couldn't accept it until he ran to Leon's place, pounded on the apartment door, and was answered by an old woman and her grandson. Whispering a quick apology to the woman, Sora sprinted down the hall and down the stairs. He flew out of the complex and down to the docks. Throwing himself off them – much to the shock of the people loading cargo on a nearby ship – he collapsed on the forest floor with a whine of despair.

Leon had been deleted.

**-RE-**

Sora didn't bother dragging himself out of bed until Saturday; the day Leon had been roped into chaperoning the dance. It was a futile hope. The man wouldn't be there. He was gone. Just plain gone.

Nevertheless, the boy dragged himself out of bed and started pulling on his uniform.

**-RE-**

Everyone was moving the same way. Footsteps, arm movement, hand placement; it was all exactly the same. Sora had seen school dances before, had noticed the similar patterns long ago, but seeing nearly three-hundred people on the floor dancing to the exact same time with the exact same steps was suddenly eerie. He felt exposed without Leon there. It was like he was a nerve waiting to be pinched.

He scanned the floor, the walls, and the doors for the familiar sight of brown hair and a scowl, but there was nothing to see. Leon wasn't there. It was a blow to his already weak knees. And as he settled up against the bleachers the unthinkable happened; someone asked him to dance.

It wasn't a girl he knew. She looked familiar, but since they both went to the same school it was a given. Shrugging, Sora made a halfhearted grimace. “No thanks.”

The girl frowned, and suddenly her hand was gripping his arm and dragging him toward the dance floor. Just as the next song started she pulled his hands into position; one on her shoulder, the other in her hand. Sora outright glared. What did she think she was doing?

Leaning forward, the stranger whispered, “It's nice to finally meet you, Sora.” She laughed quietly. “Although it would have been nice if I could have done it without triggering a mass deletion.”

The boy screwed up his eyes. “Triggering...?” A weight fell into his stomach as the girl pulled away and he realized what she was talking about. _Leon_. “What did you do?”

“I gave us time,” she replied easily.

“You had no right-”

“He was going to be deleted sooner or later anyway.” Her words were sharp; scathing; nearly accusing. It only made Sora angrier.

“Who are you?”

The girl shook her head, short black hair falling in front of her eyes at the action. “That's not important right now. Instead you need to remember.”

“Remember what?” Sora hissed.

“Heartless.”

Thus began a gentle tug at the back of the boy's head; something like a memory; something like an idea. Something he'd most definitely forgotten. But what? “Heartless?” he parroted, confused.

“Yes,” the girl confirmed quietly. “Creatures born on darkness and drawn to darkness. Destroyers of worlds, takers of families; the things that took your islands.”

“My... islands?”

“Yes. Destiny Islands.”

The name was so familiar Sora nearly felt himself choking. “Why now? Why are you telling me this now?”

Hand curling further around his waist, the girl fought back a sad smile, fighting the urge to simply pull the boy into her arms. He looked too lost to make it all the way outside. But they were out of time. So instead of pulling him in, the girl dragged her hand away from his and pressed it to his cheek. “Because you don't want to be here any more.”

Then she was gone. Like Ventus. Like Naminé. Like Roxas so many years before.

As it had with Leon, her body heat lingered. And for a heart-stopping moment in the middle of the dance floor Sora didn't know what to do with himself. It was all so strange. She was gone, and yet her words echoed. One word.

 _Heartless_.

What would they look like? The wheels in Sora's head started turning as he made his way to the bleachers. _Heartless_. Would they be shaped like an animal, like a dog? No – they seemed like they should be humanoid, with big bulbous heads and antennae. Their backs would be arched, and their feet would be pointed and slightly curled. And they would have bright yellow eyes.

Just like that.

Sora turned his eyes to the dance floor, only to panic. It was as if everyone was glitching at once. Arms turned to feet, heads turned to balloons, and just when he started to wonder if the program was breaking down every body – every student, teacher, and guest – turned to him of fixed bright yellow eyes on him.

Bulbous heads. Yellow eyes. Antennae. Skin turned black.

He couldn't run; many were crowded around the doors. He couldn't fight; he had no weapon. He couldn't call for help; there was no one to call to. So when the first heartless leaped at him, Sora did the first thing that came to mind. Racing to the side of the bleachers, he threw himself under them and _prayed_ the creatures weren't smart.

Luckily enough, they didn't think to follow him under. Instead their little black hands beat against the wooden seats with fervor as more and more congregated before him like moths to a flame. All around him the gym was glitching; sections of the wall turning to static before fading back to normal.

Then the bleachers began to creak. Off to the side, a seat began to splinter and Sora began to realize he couldn't hide there forever. But where could he go? Backing further into the dark recess of the bleachers, Sora tried not to scream as he nearly slipped on something that crumpled beneath his foot. Glancing down, he was relieved to find it was nothing more than a paper airplane.

_Wait a second..._

The boy turned his eyes around him, surprised to find a multitude of paper airplanes surrounding him. They were everywhere. Stuck under seats, lodged between steel bars, coating the floor. Scanning the wall carefully, Sora nearly jumped for joy upon realizing he was on the other side of the wall glitch. Glancing behind him to make sure the Heartless weren't on his heels – they were still stuck on the seats, though that wouldn't last forever – he ran his hands along the wall in an attempt to find the glitch. He was almost immediately rewarded, falling through to the other side.

Five feet later, he picked himself up off the ground with a groan. That's when he heard it; the sound of a thousand footsteps. Immediately he was on his feet, booking it toward the dorms. Hopefully he'd be able to lock himself in his room and buy more time. And after that? Who knew?

It didn't take long to get there and scale the steps. It seemed that he was a bit faster than the creatures on his tail, but not by much. After making it to the third floor he dug his room key out of his pocket, holding it at the ready.

But they were already there.

There weren't many of them – around five or six – but they charged him as a group, bodies practically merging with one another as they sprinted down the hall toward Sora in a small hoard. Immediately the boy rushed to the nearest door, tugging at the knob. Thankfully it opened for him without a fight and he threw himself into the room, slamming the door shut behind him and resting his weight against it. Within seconds the creatures were beating dark fists against the door, but Sora was otherwise occupied.

He wasn't in a room.

Streaks of black and white flowed freely. It was almost like the static of the sky had been smudged and slowed to a crawl. The space seemed to go on forever, and there wasn't even something that could resemble a ground; just an invisible solidity like with the extra levels of the gym and the balcony.

Door 404. It made sense, now.

Steadily the banging on the door grew louder, and Sora played with the lock until the tumblers dropped into place and he could back away. And there he stared, trapped, at the door as it vibrated. Nowhere to run; nowhere to hide; no one to call.

The door began to splinter, and he once again jumped to his feet and started to run. It seemed that the black and white expanse went on forever. But it couldn't – it was just a glitch. It should have it's limits, too. Despite this, on the room went. Behind him he heard the door shatter, and he turned around just in time to see a massive hoard approaching him, stumbling over each others' bodies and scrambling for purchase beyond the door frame.

That's when Sora fell.

He turned on his back, trying in vain to right himself. His ankle protested. Turning his eyes to the creatures, Sora tried not to acknowledge the sick countdown in his head.

 _5_.

The hoard turned towards him and began a dead sprint.

 _4_.

They moved as one, no longer stumbling over the bodies underfoot.

 _3_.

Their bulbous heads waved back and forth, their eyes dead set on the boy's useless form.

 _2_.

Only a few feet away, they launched themselves into the air en-mass.

 _1_.

Down they came.

 _0_.

Sora's hands flew up to protect his face out of habit, and suddenly he felt as if he were being pulled in every direction at once. The earth fell out from beneath his feet. Oxygen ripped from his lungs. His ears popped. But, most importantly, there was no attack. In a sudden wave of sensation, everything was cold and stagnant. The air was dry and tasted like iron. It was almost sickening.

“Thank goodness I was able to get you out in time,” a man's voice announced confidently.

Opening his eyes tentatively, Sora was shocked to find a man in a long white body suit. All around him were lines of light; pathways carved into the very walls. “Where am I?”

The stranger seemed taken aback, then glanced down at the disc in his hands. “Oh, right. I have to reboot your memory.” Taking a small rectangle from his hip, the man pressed it against the disc. Up from the circle came a display of none other than Sora's face. “Strange,” he muttered. “It doesn't seem to want to cooperate.”

“Stop treating him like a program and you'll see why,” another voice pitched in from the side.

Sora's head jolted toward the voice. An older man – oddly familiar – stood at the entrance of the room with all the bearing of royalty. A name fought to free itself from the tip of his tongue.

Off to the side, the man in white pressed a button and suddenly everything in Sora's world was spinning, spinning, spinning, then coming back to earth.

And he remembered.

“Are you back with us, Sora?”

“Yes.” He wanted to cry. “How did you get me out?”

The older man shrugged. “You got yourself out, really. Beck and I just stormed the containment facility.” Motioning to the man in white – Beck – he grinned.

Sora smiled back, although it was weak. “Thanks, Tron.”

**-RE-**

Getting back to reality is a much slower process than being digitized. While suspended in the beam, waiting to be thrown back into place, Sora had a lot of time to think. To consider what to do when he got back. It was all a mess; his heart. But in all the time he spent in stasis, he still couldn't come up with anything.

The moment he was alone in the lab he didn't know whether he wanted to smile, scream, or cry.

“Ah – so this is where you've been.”

And in seven words he wanted to cry. Leon had stepped into the room, still in his tuxedo from the wedding, carrying under his arm a camera bag. On his face was a rare smile; one that barely lit upon his lips and made his jaw just a bit thinner. Suddenly Sora's head was a jumble of thoughts. Inside the computer he'd fallen for the man before him in just a couple days, and Leon him. But had it really been Leon? Everyone inside the program seemed to be based off his memories. Was Leon's affection for him simply an addition the computer had made to make him happy?

“How are you holding up?” the man asked suddenly, surprising the younger man.

Sora glanced up sharply, not expecting the question. “Holding up from what?”

“Kairi,” Leon replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She married your best friend, remember?”

The keyblade master shook his head grimly. “No – I'm over it.” At least one good thing had come from being imprisoned in the computer.

Screwing up his eyes, the disciplinary committee leader fixed Sora with an expression of disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Sora grinned. “So, how was the reception? Did I miss anything big?”

Leon shrugged, although the younger man could tell there was something on his mind. “Not much,” the man bluffed. “Cid got plastered and started screeching about this woman named Shera, the fairies started pickpocketing anyone who looked rich...” He trailed off, suddenly looking very exposed. “And then there was the bouquet toss.”

An eyebrow rose at this. “Bouquet? What's that?”

“Oh, come on – Radiant Garden weddings can't be _that_ different from Destiny Island weddings, can they?”

Sora grinned. “Everyone wears Kimonos.”

Leon frowned. “What the hell is a Kimono?”

“Your people like to call them dresses.”

Silence followed this revelation before the older man raised his hands in defeat. “You win,” he drawled monotonously. “Anyway, a bouquet it an arrangement of flowers the bride carries. It's said that whoever catches the bouquet at the bouquet toss will be the next person to get married.” Then, reaching into his camera bag, Leon pulled out a wad of flowers.

Sora tried to ignore the lead sphere in his stomach. “Congrats.”

“I didn't actually catch it.” He pulled a face. “It bounced off a chandelier and smacked me in the face, to be completely honest.”

Forcing a chuckle, the keyblade wielder nudged the man's elbow with his. Leon was just the same as a person as he was an AI. And it hurt. “You girlfriend must be giving you all sorts of pressure, now.”

Leon shrugged. “I don't have a girlfriend.”

“Do you want to go out some time?” Time stopped. The question had just flown out before Sora could stop it, and now there was no turning back. Leon was giving him a strange look – even stranger than the one before – and the keyblade wielder just wanted to run, hide, and most definitely _not_ call for help. He wanted to scream. To cry. To take back the words because there was no way-

Leon grinned.

Sora's heart stopped.

Fixing the younger man with a soft gaze, Leon carefully cradled the bouquet with both hands as he mumbled, “Was I that obvious?”

**-The-End-**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to WeasleysAngel for her art and FST. Thanks also to Dawn of Chaos for editing and Zenelly for heading the KH Big Bang on Livejournal and Dreamwidth.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Fanmix] RE: Reprogramed Final Mix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/992307) by [holycon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holycon/pseuds/holycon)




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